#and HOW she sings with so much passion UGH. art.

[todayisafridaynight]

here people been vaguely tellin me to play judgement and sometimes givin me a reason or two but none of you even mentioned the fact ado ???? sings the intro song for the game ????? none of you love me

[paintalyx]

got a couple of extra headcanon asks on my zombie-mode art instagram from my irls. i'm rather happy with them, so i'll repost some here for the sake of archiving and an illusion of consistency. genshin impact round, here we go!

kaeya:

kaeya has dimples when he smiles. this is a hc that my brain came up with at like 4a.m. one night and i haven't been the same ever since. ugh.

self-proclaimed best emergency babysitter ever. he's only mildly better with younger kids (think klee's age) than teens. they think he's cool because of the whole pirate vibe he has going on and because he lets them do stuff other adults don't. he probably didn't get to goof off a lot as a kid, so he's just as excited to try out all the stupid and crazy ideas.

because his brother is diluc ragnvindr, who couldn't tell a lie if his life depended on it when he was a kid, kaeya honed the skill of crafting cover-up stories to perfection. my hc is that growing up, he was the more mature, responsible and cautious sibling, to contrast with diluc, who was kind of naive and reckless, prone to accidentally getting into trouble

he's never been on a proper date nor in a committed relationship (we relate to stan a king with commitment issues). rumours say that he's bedded at least half of mond and he's yet to disprove or confirm them. he tends to joke that it would be a crime to unfairly deprive people of *gestures* "all of this"

he and sister rosaria have a... very complicated relationship. on first glance, one would be forgiven to think that they are good friends. they drink together, talk about philosophy and conspiracies in-between ships of wine, and it seems like they have some sort of an unspoken understanding between them. and that's the thing! takes one to know another! they both have certain suspicions regarding each other, and as much as they find amusement in easy banter that goes on between them, both know that getting close would be nothing but danger

diluc:

jean and diluc had an unspoken *something* going on before diluc left the knights. was it just a crush? was it more? maybe less? they are on good terms even after crepus' death and they clearly still care about each other, but this *something* is always hanging above their heads when they interact

he has freckles!!! they were more obvious when he was a kid because he used to be out in the sun a lot, but you can still see some faint spots over his nose and cheeks (and arms, if he rolls up his sleeves while working)

though he's quick to deny it, he has a soft spot for venti after everything that happened with dvalin. he knows that the bard is sneaking into the winery to steal grapes, apples and wine, but every time he gets caught, diluc's threats sound more like an obligation. there is a lot of banter between, but it's clear that they enjoy each other's company. on rare, special nights, when either of them is feeling like it, they talk about the past.

going off from the previous hc, diluc knows a lot about mondstadt's history and culture. he probably had to learn about it when he was younger, but i like think that he's always been passionate about it. heck, he and jean were probably nerding out about it all the time when they were kids. when he became friends (???) with venti, he got to listen firsthand retellings of so many stories he read about and his love for them only grew

you know bennett, fischl and razor? benny's new (unofficial) adventure team?? well, yeah, they are diluc's emotional support children now because you can't be knockoff batman without knockoff batfam. fischl is his goth theatre daughter. razor is always free to crash at the winery if the weather is too bad for camping. diluc himself has no idea how's it come to this, but, frankly, he should've known what he was singing up for when he didn't correct bennett for slipping up and calling him "dad" the first time

bennett:

drawing your faves with freckles is good for the soul and i have no-self control. bennett is outside all the time, so they are kind of prominent. it adds to his charm!!! (though people keep mistaking him for being younger than he actually is, partially because of them)

he has good luck only in card and board games. but, like... ridiculously good luck. he is practically banned from playing ludo because he has all four figures out before some players can even roll their first six

he will inevitably start calling every older male that sticks around him "dad" sooner or later. he accidentally slips up in front of diluc once and that's so embarrassing, he wants to die— diluc is caught off guard and confused for a grand total of five seconds before he internally goes: "well. guess i'm a father now". almost everyone is surprised when it sticks

he's a surprisingly good writer! he never thought of it as something that he wanted to pursue, but venti's poem class was the kick he needed. early on, he's mostly writing poems and short stories on scrap pieces of paper when he's bored. it isn't until razor offhandedly tells fischl about the hobby and she insists that they need to get him a proper notebook that he starts taking it more seriously. maybe he'll write the next adventurer handbook one day?

he is the kind of guy who can get a crush on anyone who's remotely nice to him (someone tell this boy that standards are a thing). then he never does anything about it. ever. nope. taking it to the grave. he would be extra dense when it comes to romantic advances to boot, so who knows when he'll settle down?

(gotta love my irls. smooches for them. also here's venti headcanon batch in case anyone wants to see it)

[sunjaesol]

My BFB is the one for me!

juke | human!au + brother!reggie | title from BFB // victorious

If someone had to ask her who the one constant in her life was, she would have to say Luke Patterson. Which was depressing, cause the guy went through life pretending to be a 90s heartthrob and, even worse, that list didn't even include her own mother. 

Julie met Luke when she was five and he was six. Her brother Reggie befriended him on the first day of school and the rest was history. "Soul-brothers" they called themselves, which would be cute if they weren't so obnoxious together. Separate, they were somewhat manageable. Put those two in the same room? Chaos would ensue. 

He was there for it all. Weekly play dates, birthdays, the occasional holiday, her mom's funeral, band rehearsals. And when Luke had a month-long falling out with his parents, he stayed with them. 

Realistically, that should make him seem like a brother to Julie. But neither Carlos or Reggie were as infuriating as Luke was! With the stupid band tees and the stupid smile and the stupid, relentless teasing he lovingly bestowed upon her. She lost count how many times he "poisoned" her soda with salt or woke her with a heart attack by playing his electric guitar. At least she had some grip on her brothers, being their only sister, but Luke… 

Luke and her had this interesting, little relationship that she couldn't quite put her finger on and it unnerved her. Like it was an itch she couldn't scratch. (Or maybe he was just an annoying mosquito buzzing around her and should leave her the fuck alone. Probably.)

Hopping down the stairs for her midnight snack, it was no surprise to her to find the idiot gaping into the fridge like a goon. With a nudge of the hip, she pushed him aside. 

'Hey!' 

'Either pick something or save power,' she retorted, grabbing a bowl of grapes. 

He snorted. 'I don't think my indecisiveness is gonna kill the planet.'

She shot him a look, an amused smile tugging on her lips. 'You wanna say that in the cute face of a polar bear?' 

Luke stared at her for a beat, a smile crawling on his own face and shaking his head with a chuckle. The fridge fell shut with the pride of a won argument swelling in her chest. 

'So why're you still up?', he asked as she flitted around him for the bread and peanut butter. Maybe she could sneak up a butterscotch cookie too - her dad won't notice one missing, right? 

Unscrewing the lid, she sighed. 'Mendoza's class is murdering me. I really don't get why we need to learn calculus. We're an arts school, not like any of us are going to use formulas on the set of a movie.'

When she passed him to get the orange juice from the fridge, he took hold of the jar, sliding it between his hands thoughtfully. 

'Just don't overthink it,' he shrugged. 

She rolled her eyes. 'Easy for you, obviously.'

His mouth fell slack, offended, as Julie put the bottle on the island with mirth glimmering in her expression. After years of sparring with Luke, she knew how to press his buttons and took great joy in doing so. 

Suddenly leaning into her personal bubble, he sputtered. 'Are you… calling me dumb?' 

Her hand pushed his face back with a scoff. 'Don't breathe on me. All I'm saying is that you look like you have elevator music playing up there 24/7.'

When she went to grab the jar from his hand, he moved it away. 

'Uh, I think you're mistaking me for your brother.'

'No-' Tried again, moved away. '-I don't think I do.'

'You do.'

She crossed her arms, resolute. 'He's part of the gifted program.'

It unfazed him. 'Yeah. And it means shit.'

She held her palm up, exasperated. 'Just give me the peanut butter, Luke.'

Raising it over his head with an infuriating smirk, the other tugged on a curl. 'No.'

Gah! He was so dead! Did he forget she lived with three men in this house?!

Without a second of hesitation, Julie barrelled into him and jumped to catch it. Luke snatched her wrist before she could with a laugh, a hitched puff coming right after as her elbow jabbed his ribs. 

He set the jar down at lightning speed and grabbed her other wrist. Both their arms were outstretched as her foot kicked his calf, hard. When he yelped, her left hand loosened and dove for the jar. Right as her fingertips grazed the glass, a strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back. An "oof!" left her lips, the breath kicked out of her lungs. 

Luke guffawed in her ear victoriously, whooping the house together. Curse words rolled off her tongue as she repeatedly slapped his forearm to let go. She felt embarrassingly small with her feet hovering above the floor and this power dynamic was not doing it for her confidence. 

'The fuck are you doing?' 

Julie smacked to the floor before the last words were uttered, a flabbergasted Reggie staring at the pair. 

Luke stammered. 'Uh…' 

'Your bestie held the peanut butter hostage,' Julie replied sardonically. 'Did dad wake up?' 

He shook his head, a peculiar expression fixed on Luke. Her gaze shot between the two. Were they having… a silent conversation? With the way their brows quirked an lips twitched, it seemed like some "bro-talk" Julie wouldn't even like to understand. 

'Don't break your head too much over Mendoza, okay?' Reggie added, smiling at her this time. 'Just relax.'

She sighed. Relax. Because the fear of failure got eradicated with the snap of a finger if she just relaxed. 'Yeah. Sure.'

The boys finally left, silence descended, and Julie made her sandwich. For some reason, the quietude made her uncomfortable. 

***

Though Luke was annoying at times, the band he was in - Sunset Curve - definitely wasn't. Reggie, Alex and Luke created it when they were thirteen and overzealous. Reggie and Luke met Alex the same year and bullied him into a friendship, all bonding over cliché lyrics and overused chord progressions. They quickly got better though, earning a small following and a hopeful future in the LA scene. Julie was very proud of her brother. All those hours practicing the bass until his fingers bled was finally paying off with each new gig they rocked. 

And as the Molina's were raised to appreciate good music, Julie often found herself sprawled on the leather couch as they rehearsed. Reggie used to hate it, saying she was being "sticky" and "distracting", but eventually found her useful whenever they needed someone to bounce ideas with. She has co-written many of their songs. It was then that Luke was the least annoying, when he was so entranced and passionate about music that he had no time to pester her. 

(If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that song-writing with Luke was when she felt like herself the most, enjoyed life the most. But Luke was stupid and she definitely didn't feel a vibe when they wrote, so honesty was obsolete.)

'Or else you'll get,' Luke growled in the mic, music crashing together in their signature punk-rock sound. 'Crooked teeth!' 

They shot into an electrifying interlude. Alex headbanging the sweat of his forehead from his fast-paced drumming, Reggie bouncing in his heels as he heightened the bassline and Luke… was being Luke. Julie looked up from her laptop as his strumming came closer, that signature grin fixed on her as his fingers expertly glided across the neck. Her typing paused, amused. 

Why was he so adamant about "impressing" her with a riff? He knew she liked their music (and has caught her looking at his hands… ugh, fourteen year old Julie had bad judgement), he didn't have to prove himself or something. 

She smiled. 'You're going to miss your cue, idiot!' 

Ignoring her exclaim, he bobbed his head to the melody and wiggled his brows. Her eyes drifted to Alex, the blonde staring at Reggie and Reggie staring at the back of Luke's head. This has been happening a lot, Julie realised. There was this weird energy whenever they were all in the same room. For a bit, she thought it was her that was the problem, but if she was, Reggie would've told her by now. 

Now Luke was really in her face, pushing her laptop shut with his knee and making those stupid expressions he pulled whenever Grace talked to him in the hallway. Never one to back down, Julie abruptly stood up and pushed him back with a challenging smirk. The boy was seventeen; he was in serious trouble if he lacked the spatial awareness and common sense. 

‘Sing with us?!’, he pleaded over the crash of the cymbal. Behind him, Alex’ brows went so far up it disappeared into his snapback. A nervous tug knotted in her stomach at his request, like she was afraid to disappoint him, and shook her head. Keeping up the attitude she nodded at the laptop he so valiantly closed for her. 

Pulling it against her chest, she pointed at his bandmates. ‘Go sing about some fucked up teeth more!’

‘Crooked teeth!’, they all yelled in annoyance. Proud to have executed her role an irritating, little sister, she hopped out the studio. If she felt someone’s gaze burning in her back, she must’ve imagined it.  

***

There was something to be said about Grace and Luke. Though it wasn’t Julie’s business (or anyone’s, for that matter), the coupling has always intrigued her. Or lack of coupling, really. Every few months they’d find themselves at each other’s lockers flirting up a storm for everyone to see to then ghost each other again. This vicious cycle has been on loop since sophomore year. Julie felt bad for Grace, the pretty senior girl deserved far better than Luke. 

Last night, Julie couldn’t sleep. “Crooked Teeth” was blaring in her mind and haunted her dreams (and Luke’s stupid face) until she woke up in a sweat. Something was off. Like solving a math question and knowing the result is wrong but unsure where it all went wrong. Around four in the morning, it hit her. The bridge! It was all jumbled and clunky and she had far better ideas on how to craft it! She sat at her keyboard until seven in the morning, only to stop when a frustrated Carlos barged in, threw a pillow at her and yelled to “zip it!” Reggie and dad, naturally, slept through all of it. 

Now, a sleep-deprived, caffeinated and kind of manic Julie was bustling through the hallways trying (and failing) to find Luke. Sure, they butted heads a lot, but music has always been the glue. Temporary glue, but the fact remained that she and Luke were cut from the same cloth when it came to composition and lyrical prowess. (Not that she’d ever admit that. Ew. His ego was large enough as is.) 

And then she saw him. At Grace’s locker. Her breath lodged in her throat at the sight. It shouldn’t. God, it truly shouldn’t. But it did. Because Grace was pretty and Luke had one of those faces and they looked good together and it annoyed the fuck out of her. Like, who decided who went through puberty better. Julie knew she wasn’t unattractive, but she wasn’t Grace either. Tall and lithe and glossy black hair and a perfect nose. The ugly, green monster in the back of her head snarled about how her personality was probably off-putting, though Julie knew that to be untrue. Grace was, well, graceful. Genuinely kind. Gah! Since when did Julie hate on other girls? Pushing the voice down, she mustered back the previous excitement (the! bridge!) and paraded towards the pair. Luke saw her before Grace did.       

She rushed the last few steps and hastily grabbed the papers from the side pocket of her backpack. 'Luke! Hi, Grace. Okay, I know "Crooked Teeth" is finished, but I couldn't stop thinking about it and I had this amazing idea for the bridge.'

When he didn't react for a beat, stunned by her giddy attitude, her smile mellowed awkwardly. 'I mean… it's your song. You don't have to-' 

'No!', he shouted, frantic. Her brows raised in surprise. 'No, uh-' His hand flew to the back of his head, raking the ends of his hair. 'Yeah. D'you wanna go to the music room? To show me?'

Julie’s eyes flitted to a confused Grace. ‘Um…’

Luke caught on and shot the girl an easy grin. ‘Talk to you later, yeah?’ 

She shrugged. ‘I guess?’

Before she could say anything more, Luke snatched Julie by the wrist and dragged her to the nearest, open music room. The arts school was littered with them, though most had a reserved schedule. Luckily, one was empty. 

‘Okay,’ she said, tucking her hair behind her ears as she slid down in front of the piano. Luke sat next to her, expectant. ‘The bridge right now? It’s fine, but it’s not “wow”, you know? I was thinking about how the verses and chorus sound so visceral and loud, so the bridge should have something guttural. Like, primal. That’s a weird word to use, but, I don’t know, have it sound dangerous? Like - why’re you looking at me like that?’

A strange expression was plastered on Luke’s face. A half-grin and wide eyes, like he was scared he’d miss something, like he’d blink and she’d disappear. In other words: he looked insane. Then again, her exhaustion mustn’t look too appealing either. 

He shook his head, that smile falling away for something more timid. All the bravado he oozed while talking to Grace just moments before, was gone for shy eyes and fingers gripping the chain around his jeans. 

‘Nothing.’ He nudged her. ‘You kinda ambushed me here, Molina.’

Her words stuttered out. ‘I- I was just-’ Zeroing back on the keys with a frown, she said: ‘I’ll just play you the bridge.’

As she did, her mind was elsewhere. This wasn’t weird, right? They’ve done this before. Collaborated, gone to music rooms to bounce ideas back and forth, played until dusk. She knew it wasn’t weird. It was always just a matter of time before the next “ambush” came, as he put it. Soon, he’d barge into her room with half a melody and forced her to finish it. This was normal.

Then why did her skin ripple with anticipation from his intense gaze directed on her temple? 

When she finished, she kept her eyes on the keys. Suddenly, his hand appeared in her vision and softly patted her knuckles, urging her to look at him anyway. He had that strange look again, the sight letting the most peculiar feeling rush through her veins.   

Luke smiled. ‘I like it.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Wanna play it for the boys during next rehearsal?’ His brows raised with hope, head leaning her way as if he wasn’t already close enough. And he wasn’t close enough. 

Julie went on autopilot at this point, too enthralled by her emotions running wild. ‘Yeah.’ It came out breathy and foolish and if she had half a brain cell right now, she’d kick herself in the face for how dumb she sounded.  

His hand squeezed hers and then let go, that smile turning nervous. Oh God, did he notice how weird she abruptly got? ‘Cool. Sweet. Perfect. Your- this was perfect. I’ll see you, uh, -’

‘Yeah,’ she squeaked. ‘Whenever.’

When he left the room in a hurry, her face planted itself on the keys and erupted a harsh sound. Fitting, she believed. Her mind was a mess too. 

***

Then stuff began piling on and each time it did, Julie’s heart fluttered like the traitorous bitch it was. 

Like when Luke told her to tell calculus to “bite her” as a joke, but then she actually did during a test and somehow didn’t get a black out. She knew it was likely just a placebo, but the grin she earned later on when she showed him the B+ and he gave her the tightest hug was worth the pseudo-science. 

Or he found her in the hallway whenever they both had a free period and casual small talk turned to slamming each other into lockers or, more recently, pulled her outside to get boba from the place right across the street. Their boba hangouts were probably the strangest development of all, but it was… nice. Pleasant. If she ever secretly thought it was a date, then it must’ve been a sun stroke hitting her. 

Or she’d be doing her homework and he’d waltz into her room (because he was always at their house and that never changed) and randomly help her with a task or question. It was small and it usually slowed her down, but she hasn’t had the guts to turn him away either. She blamed his stupid smile. 

Or just yesterday they were all in the kitchen and she was peering over Reggie’s shoulder as he tried and failed to properly text his crush Kayla, when she said: 

‘Isn’t that weird? That you’re talking to a junior?’

Luke, who was looking over his other shoulder, scoffed. ‘Why would that be weird?’

Pointing at the emoji he should be using (the purple heart - duh!), she shrugged. ‘I don’t know. You just don’t see a lot of people date outside of their year. It’s, like, an unspoken rule.’

Reggie pouted. ‘Not helping, Jules.’

‘I am! Use the purple heart!’

Luke snorted. ‘Please, if you were asked out by some senior boy, you’d say no?’

The Molina’s looked up from the phone to shoot him a weird look. The boy shrunk under their stare, fingers nervously drumming island. 

Caution tinged her voice. ‘I don’t know… should I?’

The boys stared at each other for a beat. That “bro-talk” again, Julie presumed with a roll of the eye. Typical.

‘Yes,’ Luke trailed, unsure. ‘You should say no.’

A ball of disappointment dropped to the pit of her stomach at his words - hard. Oh. So he didn’t mean himself then. Julie froze. Why would she even want that? She was not returning to her fourteen year old self that gawked at Luke like an idiot. Nope. Not happening. Just because she felt flushed and ecstatic every Wednesday afternoon when they schedules lined up, that didn’t mean her crush has resurfaced. Totally. 

But then something even more maddening happened. It was Thursday afternoon, right before lunch, when Nick approached her by her locker. She’d been fervently texting a sick Flynn to get better when he started asking about dance class and how on earth he was supposed to master a calypso by Monday next week. He was clearly stressed and Julie gave him a hug. Just as she was going to offer her help (or redirect him to Kayla, as she was an actual dance goddess), a familiar arm draped around her shoulder and pulled her back. 

Julie was fuming. Luke decided to start acting like some jovial prick as he intimidated Nick with all these terror stories about his own dance assignments from last year and that “a calypso was just the beginning.” The poor guy was practically passed out from anxiety by the time his spiel was over. She couldn’t even yell an apology as he sped off and spun around the corner at lightning speed.        

The arm fell away, Luke stared at her ridden with guilt, muttered some half-assed “sorry” and rushed off in the opposite direction. A baffled, angry Julie was left standing there. 

If Luke thought he could be some white knight, he was dead wrong. 

***

She got lucky. Reggie mentioned beforehand Luke was coming over and knew that he, inevitably, would ascend the stairs. A pent-up Julie paced in her room, feeling that fever pitch come to a boiling point. Argh! Why was he so… infuriating?! (And attractive?! And charismatic?! Argh!) 

Then she heard it. His tentative steps up the steps. Like he knew. The fact that she was seemingly predictable left her cold this time, slamming her door open at just the right moment to snatch his wrist and roughly yank him inside. 

Before he could react, she yelled: 'What the hell, Luke?! Why did you do that?' 

Luke was a stammering, embarrassed mess. Good. 'Uh- I- I-' 

'You can't just act all overprotective or possessive like that! What's your problem with Nick? He's super nice and, you know, my friend. I already have two brothers, I don’t need one more!’

'I-'

'You don't get to decide who I talk with! Or save me or whatever fantasy you were living in! And-!' 

'I like you, Jules,' he blurted. 

Julie was blazing though. 'So? That doesn't mean that-' Until the words dried on her tongue, stunned. All else she had prepared to say flew out the window. The constant fluttering in her heart hitched. Did she… hear him correctly? 'W-what?' 

A beat went by, like he couldn’t believe he actually said that, but then word vomit spewed out. 'I- I like you? Like, on and off since I was eleven and I tried to not like you - I really tried - but you're just incredible and pretty and an amazing singer and you keep doing that thing with your lips when you have a thought and it's been killing me seeing Nick shoot his shot and-' 

Julie dove forward and pressed a kiss on his rambling mouth. Stretched on her tippy toes, she saw him freeze and stare at her in wonder. Slowly, her poor heart began to beat again, fast and fond and for him and oh my God, what was happening? 

'Did you just-', he croaked. 

Shit. Should she have asked to kiss him first? Her hands didn't leave his shoulders, alarmed. 'Uh… you just kept talking and-' She swallowed back her nerves and mustered a smile. 'If you wanted to be my boyfriend, you could've just asked.'

Luke blinked, completely in awe by her words. 'What?' 

Alright. Time to take life by the balls, Molina. 

'You didn't think I might like you back?' 

An incredulous laugh puffed from his lips, looking from her hands on his shoulders and then grabbed onto her waist. Jitters burst in her stomach at the sudden touch. This was actually happening. Holy shit. But God, how could she deny that bright smile and his warm smile and that giddy feeling that rippled her skin each time they hung out? 

'Can we try that again?', he breathed. 

His grin captured hers before she could fully nod, his hands slipping to her lower back and jaw without hesitation. Her arms slung around his neck, finally getting a feel for his soft locks of hair. Heat grew from her chest to her toes, curling from bliss. She felt deliciously empty and full of glee all at once. 

Her back fell against the door with a giggle. Just as he went back in, she pressed a finger on his lips. 

'Still doesn't make it right what you did.' 

'Yeah.' He kissed her again. 'Sorry.'

She tried saying more, but each word was muffled by another warm kiss of his intoxicating lips and all she could do was melt against him. The odd lyric that “heaven was his lips and larger than paradise” passed her by, hopefully reminding her of its existence in an hour or two. 

His fingers slipped under her shirt and dug into her heated skin. They became lazier, the kisses open-mouthed and smiling and already so amazing at first try. Julie has kissed a handful of boys before, but this? Unmatched. 

Two sudden knocks against wood. ‘Julie?’

They froze, Julie slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his inevitable snicker. 

‘Have you seen Luke?’, Reggie continued, confusion lacing his voice. 

‘No!’, her voice squeaked, still affected by their make-out. Cringing, she tried to level it. ‘Uh, maybe he’s gone to the, uh-’ His lips grazed her neck, teasingly. She pinched his arm, but he didn’t lean back. Asshole. ‘-uh…’

‘Julie? Everything okay?’

‘Yeah! Yeah! I’m fine!’ Julie pushed Luke back again, this time the boy giving her some space. The wolfish smirk he was sporting was one she either wanted to slap or kiss away. ‘Maybe he’s in the bathroom? Annoying Carlos? The studio?’ Not my room!  

They held in their breaths as they waited for a reply. Her mind was failing to catch up to what she’s just done. Here she was, with flushed lips and tingling skin from Luke’s actions as her brother was meandering on the other side of the door. How did she end up here? 

He blew a raspberry. ‘Okay…’ They sighed. ‘When you’re done making out, can you force Luke to start our project? Kind of an important assignment.’

Luke’s face crashed into pure horror, mouth falling agape and skin pale as a ghost. Julie snorted despite herself, dropping her head on his shoulder in an attempt to muffle her giggles but failing horribly. Of course, Reggie knew. His dreamy nature made anyone forget how observant he actually was, yet here he instantly he had his pulse on the facts. Or he’s always known about Luke’s crush on her. Probably both. 

Her smile stretched against the fabric of his shirt. Luke had a crush on her. Luke liked her. 

Reggie’s footsteps faded away, his bedroom door falling shut. Their gazes met again. 

Luke gulped, green eyes wide and oh so adorable. ‘He took that surprisingly well.’

Her chin raised, haughty. She hasn’t forgotten about that infuriating face of his just one minute before. ‘You kissed my neck.’

That look returned as he hummed, edging closer. ‘I did.’

‘You’re an asshole, you know that?’

His face brightened at her words, weaving a hand through her and making her sigh just like that. She was gone and she didn’t even know it. ‘And you’re-’ he murmured, softly kissing her lips, ‘-into that.’

How desperately she wanted to keep this going, she has heard what Reggie said. An important project due. She shouldn’t trouble her brother like that, even if making out with his best friend was far more appealing than anything else in the world right now.

The measly words puffed out. ‘You have-’ kiss ‘-a project-’ kiss ‘-with Reggie.’ kiss.  

‘Hmm…’ Letting her stand between his legs to be even closer and consequently shutting down any rationale, Luke mumbled against her lips: ‘One more minute.’

In the end, Luke stayed for another thirty minutes before Reggie barged in, dragged the boy from Julie’s bed by the collar and wordlessly trucked back out the room. When later that night she received a text saying goodnight jules 💙 she knew she hadn’t been dreaming.

And when Luke kissed her square on the lips the next day for everyone to see, Julie had inkling this interesting, little relationship of theirs was the just the beginning.  

@blush-and-books @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @sophiphi @ourstarscollided

[artzychic27]

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Y’all, I fucking love this anon! 🤣

Comment if your work has been visited by Sig.Ra Rossi or you’ve seen them in the comment section!

154 notes • Posted 2021-02-21 14:53:21 GMT

#4

Akumatized Luka Idea!

Class salt (Spare a few (Juleka & Nathaniel)) After their daughter comes home in tears, Sabine and Tom call for Luka to comfort her. She tells him everything that happened. Lila pulls some shit and everyone (sans two) follow her words while Adrien does nothing to help her.

To make his Broadway Baby girlfriend feel better, Luka sings some of Marinette’s favorite songs from musicals. The one that calms her down is ‘Our Love is God’ He sings the song with more passion than the others, since he finds himself relating to JD in a way. He thinks about all the people who have hurt Marinette, becomes angry, and cue Hawkmoth.

He gets Akumatized into Musical Mayhem. His goal is to destroy all those who have hurt his Melody by using his guitar case that carries various musical-themed weapons (Mountain Dew Red Bomb/Gun Hamilton was shot with/Mormon tie whip/Evan’s cast gauntlet/Heather’s sledgehammer/SQUIPS that he can use to control people)

Musical Mayhem’s philosophy is similar to JD’s, which is “Kill all the assholes.” He’s constantly smothering his ‘Melody’, will kill anyone who dares to hurt her or make her cry, and he sometimes sings. Also, he tries to destroy the school so it’ll just be him and Marinette.

At one point, when Marinette tells him to stop his rampage, he sings Meant to Be Yours

185 notes • Posted 2021-03-11 12:32:28 GMT

#3

If the Art Club was basically the Addams Family

They’re morbid, have a dark sense of humor, are never seen without black, and spiders hide in their hair

Nathaniel: Gomez Addams

Always has this sinister smirk that screams, ‘I will murder you in your sleep.’

Gets excited when his boyfriend speaks Spanish

Marc: Normal people. Tan extraño.

Nathaniel: Monochrome, you know how I get when you speak Spanish! *Kisses his arm*

Never seen without his black blazer

Sharpens the ends of his paintbrushes so they can be used as knives... No reason, just does it

Blood Red and Death Row Black are his favorite colors

A true romantic

Makes passionate love with Marc at least four times a day

Nathaniel: My monochromic nightmare. Stab my heart a thousand times and I will be yours until death do we part!

Marc: I’ll got get my dagger.

Nathaniel: Will it be painful?

Marc: So much.

Marc: Morticia Addams

Wears tight black outfits

Cuts the buds off of flowers

Marc: Ugh. *Cutting up roses* Who in their right mind would plant these?

Weirded out by normal people

Marc: Nathan. That child is smiling at me. Almost as if he were... Happy.

Nathaniel: Monochrome, look away. *Shields Marc’s eyes*

Writes morbid poetry and eulogies

When Mendelive asked him to a say a prayer for their dead class hamster, this is what he said-

Marc: Come, sorrow; we welcome thee. Let us join in grief, rejoice in despair, and honor the fortunate dead.

Cut to the students and teacher backed into a corner far away from him

Encourages his friends torturing people they despise

Marc: Alix, what are you doing with that bow and arrow?

Alix: I’m gonna shoot Kim when he’s not looking.

See the full post

214 notes • Posted 2021-03-26 22:11:48 GMT

#2

Headcanon!

Nathaniel is not above using blackmail

—

Nathaniel: *Sighs* Lila, I wish it didn’t have to come to this. I really didn’t. But, if you continue to lie about Marinette, harass Adrien, and take advantage of my gullible friends, I will show everyone this photo of you grabbing an Akuma. *Shows Lila the very incriminating photo*

Lila: HOW’D YOU GET THAT?!

Nathaniel: Just one of the perks of being unnoticeable. Do we have a deal?

Lila: … No! Forget it! I’m calling your bluff.

Nathaniel: Ah. I see… Well, in that case- HEY EVERYONE! LOOK! A PHOTO OF LILA! AND SHE’S-

Lila: *Covers his mouth* Okay! Just shut up and give me that photo.

Nathaniel: Nope. I’m gonna hold onto this as… Let’s call it leverage. Step out of line, and everyone will know you’re working with a terrorist, Rossi.

*One day later!*

Lila: *Being handcuffed* YOU BASTARD! I DID WHAT YOU SAID!

Nathaniel: Yes, but here’s the thing. I don’t like you.

215 notes • Posted 2021-08-01 16:56:52 GMT

#1

Anymore headcanons for the Artist Family? Are they rich and classy like the Addams?

They make a ton of money off of Marinette’s commissions, Marc/Nath’s VERY detailed gothic graphic novels, Juleka and Rose playing music at funerals, and Alix’s demolition business

The converted funeral home they live in is spacious and could be mistaken for a mansion

Rich people dining! Five chandeliers in the dining room, black as night table with thirteen candelabra made from ashes found in the embalming room, old caskets converted into cabinets, doilies spun by spiders, and a tigers head hanging on the wall

One of their Kwamis, I’m thinking Screech, takes a human form and drives them around in their car, a 1940 LaSalle Meteor Hearse

One of the teachers fainted when they came to school in that

Juleka: They’re clearly jealous.

Alix: Yeah! Not everyone gets to carry around the dead wherever they go!

There’s a ton of rooms in the house

The crematorium has been converted into a dungeon filled with vintage weapons they bought from museums

Marinette: How much for the battle axe?

Museum Director: Excuse me? I’m afraid these aren’t for sale.

Marinette: *Pulls out a massive wad of cash* Let’s try this again, shall we?

They gladly donate stacks of cash to local museums with torture and Black Plague exhibits. There’s even a couple of wings named after them

The embalming room stays, because who doesn’t enjoy a good embalming room?

Their closets are filled with 17/18th century gothic and modern gothic outfits

Marinette/Juleka/Rose/Marc/Nathaniel/Alix

Marc and Nathaniel rent out the catacombs once in a while when they’re on dates

Nathaniel: Look at you. Midnight, candle light, surrounded by death.

*An explosion cuts them off as they’re about to kiss*

Marc: One home, the six of us, and so many windows.

Rose and Juleka do the same but with cemeteries

Juleka: It’s shame we can’t watch the departed decompose above ground.

Rose: *Pulls out a shovel* Wanna watch now?

Learning about their wealth, Lila tries to kiss up to them by boasting about being related to H.P. Lovecraft. That didn’t end well

Nathaniel: The man is a notorious white supremacist. (Look it up)

She tried again

Lili: I-I meant I was related to Edgar Allen Poe! You see, he’s my great, great grandfather, and I actually dabble in a little poetry myself.

Marc: Poe had no children.

Marinette: But if you were his descendant, you would have an extra row of teeth or a tail, or you aren’t able to taste salt.

See the full post

236 notes • Posted 2021-04-15 22:49:07 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[masqueradeball]

How about number 3? Like, tell us all about it if you want :)

Oh my gosh 🥺 thank you so much for giving me my first ask! 💖 I'm eternally grateful I get to spill all my pheels out.

3. What is my favorite Phantom tv/film adaptation?

My absolute favorite Phantom is the 1925 Lon Chaney silent film. He just embodies everything that I like about Gaston Leroux's Erik for me and he is both horrifying and pitiable. I dislike the ending but I can live with it given it's what test audiences wanted at the time. I truly love his Red Death costume. You can find it on Youtube and the Tubi app for free.

My first runner up would be Claude Raines in the 1943 because his Erique so soft and tragic in that film I cannot help but love him. This was one was my grandma's favorite 'classic monster' movies that she loved, so I have a special place in my heart for this one. I love his hair and appreciate that he was one fine silver fox before the revenge and jealousy issues set in. The opera parts are a little boring, but the costumes and the sassy diva rival to Christine are worth the watch. We get 2 handsome Raouls who end up going to dinner together at the end of the movie and a Christine who gets to bask in the limelight of her career while not choosing any suitor, which is the best possible outcome for her. Double play for the win in my book! You can watch it for free on the Peacock app.

My next runner up is a 3 way tie between Robert Englund, Gerard Butler, and Charles Dance.

I honestly enjoy all their performances because they each bring something unique to the role.

I cannot stress enough how violent the Robert Englund version is if you want to give it a go, but Erik Destler is insane, twisted, and fabulously murdertastic in this. I love the creepy, evil vibes the man gives off. Think of this film as a time travel AU of the original novel. I feel like he nailed Leroux Erik's darker, snarky personality that some people tend to forget he had and the gothic horror parts of the original novel are there. Bonus: they keep the Faust parallels like in the novel!

I'm gonna say it: I love the Charles Dance miniseries. I know it's not the best, but damn, he is so dry and sarcastic I cannot help but enjoy his performance. I want to pinch his cheeks and smother Cherik with the love his father never gave him everytime I see him. Again, this one focuses on the operas a lot, and for me it's a bit boring. But the backgrounds, settings, and props in this thing are fantastic and the costumes are wonderful too.

That leaves Gerard Butler in the 2004 movie. No he is not the world's greatest singing Phantom, but I don't care. I absolutely love his facial expressions and body language. The Phantom is an emotional, expressive dude and the Red Death costume scene is pretty good. I love how kind and sincere Emmy feels in this film and I appreciate she's not overracting and doesn't feel fake compared to some other Christines *coughSierracough* Being the film version of the ALW musical, this Phantom story focuses on the romance and Gerard excels at that. When he and Christine are singing Past the Point of no Return, I FEEL THEIR PASSION! And that's what counts more so than hitting the same notes we've all heard a million times before.

Now for the versions in the 'I will eternally like this' category 😊 :

The Phantom of the Paradise from 1974. This is also a very violent and dark film so fair warning if you haven't seen it. It's a bizarre rock musical, but if you're weird like me and enjoy Rock & Rule or the Rocky Horror Picture Show, this might be a film you'd like too. I don't want to spoil it too much but the Faust/devil parallels are here too, as is various pop culture references. His teeth and mask are terrifyingly cool, and so is the electronic voice box he uses. It makes sense Daft Punk was inspired by this film. Maybe G1 Soundwave was inspired by this film too, but that's a debate for another day 😉

Next is the animated 1988 film. This one features animation on par with other 80s tv cartoons of the time. I love that they kept the Persian and the torture chamber from the novel. The Phantom's death scene is pretty damn epic. Christine is kind of a flake, but animated Leroux Erik is hilariously insane and terribly charming, especially when he calls himself a Don Juan. It's worth watching just for his antics and his dialouge.

You might not expect a Goosebumps episode to do a Phantom story any justice, but here we are: 1995, The Phantom of the Auditorium is a spooky fun take on the story and honestly, I'd like to see the full play the kids at that school are putting on cause it looks better than some of the live Phantom stage scenes I've seen. Both young boys playing the Phantom are fantastic actors and the plot twist at the end is great.

I absolutely have to give a shout out to Wishbone's Pantin at the Opera. He is the best, cutest, most adorable Raoul de Chagney ever and I will fight you if you dare talk smack about this version. I'm not even a Raoul stan by any means but like, this dog is precious and I enjoy this episode so much.

Also in the animated category and cute dog category is Scooby Doo Stage Fright made back in 2013. This movie is one of my fave Scooby Doo films (yes I own almost all of them on dvd) and there are multiple Phantoms, a reality tv show contest, and Fred and Daphne finally kiss each other! Lots and lots of hidden Phantom references in the background and lots of voice acting talent for those of us who appreciate that.

Now for the versions I intensely dislike 😏

The 1962 Herbert Lom version. UGH where to start. The sets are so small and everything looks dirty and of the wrong time period. The color in the film looks washed out. The clothes look too modern somehow (maybe it's their hairstyles?) and it bothers me. It feels low budget in a bad way and it shows. This phantom is not likeable or pitiable even though his backstory is similar to the Claude Raines version. He has no romantic interest in Christine, so it feels off. This guy is such an old a$$ piece of sh*t, he literally slaps Christine as she's singing for him for no damn reason. His paper mache mask looks like a Kindergartener's botched art class project. His personality is like somebody locked up cranky grandpa in the basement and he's PMS-ing because y'all forgot to give him his daily prune juice. This squatter's lair lacks creepiness, and his bizarre sidekick is annoying and yet somehow more interesting than the Phantom. The pervert manager trying to bang Christine aggravated me and simultaneously made me want to vomit. Raoul is the only likeable character in the whole damn movie. The Joan of Arc opera scene makes up for some of the film, but it's still terrible.

Next on my meh list is the 1983 made for tv movie starring Micheal York and Jane Seymour. Now, this one has some likeable and applaudable scenes: the various murders and general creepiness of the Phantom, and the lair scene when she wakes up in his bed and the Phantom gets all up in her face is so intense and so Leroux I absolutely love it. The rest of the film is a jumbled hot mess at best, but Jane Seymour is 🔥 and she gets some damn good sex, so hell yeah to that!

And lastly, I do not like the Royal Albert Hall 25th anniversary recording. I should preface this by saying it is Sierra I don't like. I like Ramin, I love Hadley, everyone else is wonderful but I cannot stand Sierra. She tries too hard to make Christine a Disney Princess- and that doesn't fly with me. It comes off as insincere or mocking the source material at best, and at worst it makes Christine look like an airheaded ditz. Apparently Sierra played Ariel at one point which is hilarious because of all the Disney princesses, I dislike her the most. But that's a different rant for another day.

And finally, the one I hate most of all:

The 1998 Argento film. This is the worst Phantom adaptation I've ever seen. It is a whole lotta nope for me. Between the rats, the unecessary and pointless telepathy, the r*pe scene, and the unfunny weird vibe from the murder going on in this film it's a disaster from start to finish. Honestly, it's the rats and his hair that bother me from a visual standpoint alone and it's beyond disgusting the way this a$$🤡 treats Christine. I don't like any of the characters in here and for good reason. It's not worth watching and if you do, be ready to bleach your brain afterwards.

💖 Sorry if this was a long read! Thanks again for giving me an ask and I will cherish it forver!!!! 💖

[lupinblacktheone]

"So, I was thinking": a modern college!AU:

Johnny is bored. He has already finished all of his crosswords; all of his friends are busy minding their own business and won't pick up their phones.

Classes won't begin until next Monday. Johnny arrived at his dorm last night and he doesn't know when his roommate will be there. All he knows about this person is his name: LaRusso, Daniel.

Wondering about this mysterious boy could set Johnny free from his boredom. Is he a nerd? Or a drama kid? Johnny hopes he won't sing all the time. Of course he likes music (who doesn't?), but musicals... he isn't ready for them yet.

It would be nice to have some common likings with him. Maybe horror movies or breakfast for dinner (well, Johnny is so broke that he eats it for all meals, basically).

Remembering the old times, which weren't good, not at all, tugs at Johnny's heartstrings. He doesn't miss arguing with his parents all the time, but he certainly liked not having to iron his clothes himself. And he misses messing around with Tommy, Jimmy, Bobby and Dutch after school.

Oh, and Karate! Johnny misses it so much that it hurts. He couldn't find a Karate club to join (is this a thing? In Johnny's opinion, it should be. There are clubs for everything in this campus. If he can't find one, he'll form one). Maybe he can practice with Daniel and he could be the second member of the Karate club.

"Hello! I'm Daniel!"

Johnny stares at the boy. He's short, dark-haired and has round brown eyes.

"Johnny", the blond boy gets up, approaches Daniel and shakes his hand. "Can I help you unpacking?"

"Please", Daniel sighs and rubs his neck. "My mother just dropped me off and turned the car around. I barely had time to say goodbye. Can you believe it? I think she wants to rent my room while I'm gone, but I don't think I'll be going home anytime soon. How about you?"

Obviously, the first thing Johnny learns about Daniel is: he's a chatterbox. Second thing: he's from Jersey. He lives with his mother and would love to learn martial arts, but her mother wouldn’t let him because she’s afraid he will get hurt.

"I know Karate", Johnny confesses with a little smile.

***

Sometimes, Johnny regrets having told Daniel about his passion for Karate, because the kid didn't stop begging Johnny for some classes until he finally gave up.

Their dorm is too small and they would destroy it sparring there, so Johnny decides to have the class outside, behind the gym. Daniel said he would meet Johnny there after dinner (and yes, Daniel also has breakfast for all meals, since he is just as broke as Johnny).

December is on the way, so Johnny is wearing as much sweaters as he can (including his Cobra Kai jacket). He leans his back against the red brick wall and puts a cigarette between his lips.

Daniel shows up some minutes later, carrying a heavy messenger bag on his shoulder and wrapped in hoodies and coats (he has lots of cool hoodies; Johnny loves to borrow them and he is using the baseball one right now).

"Ugh", Daniel puts the bag down, massaging his shoulder.

"Are you ok?", Johnny asks with a worried look on his face.

"Perfect. Let's do this."

They get on fighting positions and spar for a while. When they get tired, they walk back to their room, peacefully talking about the day.

"Let me carry this for you", Johnny picks the messenger bag, even though Daniel has already bent to pull it.

He places it over his shoulder and Daniel walks beside him, ranting about his lame Calculus professor.

"I couldn't convince Mrs. Warter to postpone the paper's due date", Johnny complains when Daniel asks about his day. "I'll be lucky if I get a C on it."

"Do you want me to help you?"

Yes, please, he almost answers. Johnny enjoys having Daniel around. They don't have many common likings besides Karate and breakfast food, but he really enjoys staying up late with him, sharing their only desk (Johnny begun to work as a cashier in a store near the campus and Daniel writes other people's assignments for money and they are saving money to improve the place) and laptops on study sessions. Or to spend rare and lazy Sundays in their room, doing crosswords (Daniel bought some magazines and gave to Johnny). Or to share breakfast meals in the middle of the night because they can't sleep.

"Are you free tonight?", he asks, his voice sounds desperate, just as his eyes.

"Is this a study session or a date?", Daniel replies jokingly and raises an eyebrow. "Sure. I can help you."

Johnny opens his laptop and shows Daniel what he's working on.

"I mean, it's not bad, but could use some adjustments here and there. Let's get to work."

Daniel presses the keyboard keys hard with strong movements that emulate a pianist, but with perfectly tied hair. His brain is formulating what should be in the text and getting rid of what shouldn't be read by Johnny's professor.

"I think we're done here", Daniel declares.

"Thanks. I'm gonna buy you a coffee tomorrow, with extra cream."

"Much appreciated", the boy winks and Johnny's heart skips a beat. "So, I was thinking..."

"What a miracle", Johnny teases, smiling to distract Daniel from his blushing ears.

"Anyway, are you going home for Christmas?"

"I don't think so. You?"

"Also no. I don't have enough money for a ticket to Parsipanny."

Daniel looks at Johnny for a moment. His blue eyes are usually shiny, but now... he's more than just sad. Johnny looks depressed and scared.

"Are you alright?", Daniel reaches for Johnny's hand. "You can talk to me. I'm here for you."

Johnny doesn't talk. Instead, he goes for a hug. A big and warm hug. He clings onto Daniel as if he was the only thing keeping him from being blown away.

He doesn't want to cry. However, he can't fight the tears anymore. Daniel holds Johnny, trying to keep him together only with his bare hands. He doesn't try to whisper comfort words in Johnny's ear, he just stays there, providing his roommate all the support he can.

That night, Johnny falls asleep in Daniel's arms. He has never felt this safe before.

The next morning, Johnny rushes to the closest cafe shop to get the nicest cup they have. He drops by the dorm to put the coffee on the desk with a note: To the best roommate ever. Thank you for everything. Love, J.

He sends the paper to Mrs. Warter as soon as he takes a seat in the computer lab for his first class, hoping Daniel's help can save his poor ass from failing Warter's class.

A few hours later, Johnny is waiting for the last class to begin so he can get to work. Not that he likes standing up by a counter telling old people where they can find raisins, plum juice and other things old people buy. But at least, he gets to listen to his music and does little pieces of homework between a client and another.

There is something Johnny can't do at the store: see Daniel. Too bad they don't take many classes together, because every time Johnny sees Daniel entering the classroom, the world changes. It becomes brighter and more beautiful. He knows it's cliché, but Johnny is tired of pretending to be the perfect son, athlete... he just wants to be Johnny.

And Johnny is brave.

"So, I was thinking...", Johnny says when Daniel sits by his side.

"That's unusual", Daniel lets out that amusement air through his nose. "What is it?"

"Do you wanna go out? With... with me?"

That is really unusual. Johnny never was this reticent before. Not even when he noticed he had a crush on Ali Mills.

“Yeah, sure. When?”

“How about Friday? My shift ends at 5:30.”

“Sounds great.”

***

Johnny spends Christmas in his dorm, with Daniel. They curl up on Johnny’s bed, wrapped in Daniel’s hoodies, solving crosswords puzzles and drinking tea while listening to Johnny’s music. Neither of them wants to talk about their families.

Growing up as an only child, Johnny never had to share his things. He wouldn’t even allow Ali to read his poetry (he wrote some about her, tho), or let his friends go through his Spotify playlist. Not because he's embarrassed to like these songs, but because the lyrics describe him so perfectly that he's not comfortable with someone listening to it in front of him.

When he met Daniel and found out they could be good friends (maybe more than that? Johnny certainly hopes so), he felt an urge to take the boy on a journey through his world. First, they shared Karate, then crossword puzzles and went on and on, discovering little things about one another.

“Huh… I couldn’t get you anything for Christmas, so I wrote you a poem. Wanna hear it?”

Daniel doesn’t say anything, just gets closer to him as Johnny clears his throat and searches his notebook for his newest composition. Once he finds it, he puts the paper in front of his eyes (he was brave enough to ask the boy out, but not to have that lovely brown eyes gazing at him while he reads his feelings out.)

“I loved it, Johnny. Now get ready for your present.”

Johnny doesn’t close his eyes when his lips are pressed by Daniel’s mouth. It feels so good that they do it again and again until they fall asleep, holding each other.

***

Graduation is almost here. Most students have moved from the dorms or plan to do it soon. Daniel and Johnny, on the other hand, haven’t mentioned the matter yet. As you can imagine, they don’t want to live with their families again. The only thing Johnny wants is to stay with Daniel and he wonders if Daniel wants the same thing.

“Hey, Danny”, it was supposed to be a nice and quiet study session before the finals, but Johnny can’t hold this down any longer. “I was thinking… do you wanna live with me?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re never getting rid of me, blondie.”

[nothingbutimagines]

Frenemies (Peter Parker)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Cursing 

Summary: Peter and Y/n are friends...kinda. Peter thinks they’re friends, even though Y/n picks on him and they’re constantly bickering or competing for the top spot in their classes. Peter thinks they’re friends while Y/n sees them more as frenemies, but the two are confronted with their feelings towards one another when they get roped into playing Romeo and Juliet in the school play. 

Author: Dizzy

A/N: Just a little something I whipped up while procrastinating on my finals. Senior year is too hard, ugh. Just a heads up, starting Dec 13th, tomorrow, I will be starting 12 Days of Ficmas with another Peter fic, so keep your eyes peeled!

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

__________________

“Any volunteers to act out the next scene?” Your Drama teacher, Ms. Newman, asked the class, a bright smile on her face as hands flew into the air. “Everyone has to read at least once, since we’re using this class to decide on who will be Romeo and who will be Juliet.”

You rolled your eyes, resting your chin in your hand as you watched other students wave their hands around wildly. 

Of course everyone wanted to act out the next scene, one of the most romantic scenes of the play, you thought to yourself. While everyone either loved or hated Romeo and Juliet, you found yourself indifferent to it all. You liked the play just fine, but you wouldn’t say you loved it nor would you say you hated it. It was all just okay in your mind and you sure as hell didn’t want to be Juliet, or be in the play at all. 

Unlike everyone who had their hands up, waving them like mad, you didn’t quite care for romance if you were going to be honest. Perhaps it was that you’d never connected with someone in such a way that caused you to like it or you just hadn’t found the perfect Nicholas Sparks movie to cry to, but you hated romance, almost dreading it. 

“Y/n?” 

You looked up to see an extended finger pointing right at her and a smile on Ms. Newman’s face. 

“Come on up, dear. You can read for Juliet and Peter here can read for Romeo.” She waved you up onto the stage, directing you onto a higher platform to read. 

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Peter mumbled from beneath you.

You bent down to his level, a hand on his shoulder as you gazed into his eyes. 

“You can do this. And you know you can trust me. Because I don’t care enough about you to lie.” 

Peter rolled his eyes as you straightened back up. 

“Gee, thanks. I totally feel better now.”

“You’re welcome. I’m a very helpful person.” You chuckled, turning your attention back to Ms. Newman.

“Alright, Peter, you are Romeo, talking about Juliet and unbeknownst to you, she is right up there on the balcony, speaking about you. Y/n, stand up straight and give us your best performance, don’t look so down. Now, ready, set, action!”

You looked over at Peter, who gave you a small smile before breaking eye contact to look down at his script, his brown hair falling in his face before looking back up at you again.

You could barely act as it is, and looking at the brown haired boy looking at you, you sure as hell couldn’t act like you were in love with Peter Parker, the kid you couldn’t help but tease and pick on even though you were kind of friends and kind of enemies with. 

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid since she is envious.

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!

It is my lady. Oh, it is my love.

Oh, that she knew she were!” Peter spoke, acting as if his life depended on it, his eyes gazing into yours.

You bit your lip, unsure of what the sudden warmth in your chest and cheeks was from as you watched him gesture to you, speaking boldly like the character he was pretending to be. 

You looked away, breaking the eye contact for a moment to look into the small group of students in the class, your breathing slow as the warmth dissipated and you brought a hand to your cheek. 

“... Her eye in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.

Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand

That I might touch that cheek!”

You brought your hand from your cheek to your heart. “Ay, me!” 

Peter glanced up at you once more, before turning to the group. 

“She speaks.

O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art

As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,

As is a wingèd messenger of heaven

Unto the white, upturnèd, wondering eyes

Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

When he bestrides the lazy-puffing clouds

And sails upon the bosom of the air.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the boy standing not that far below you, the way he gave you a funny look as he turned back to you and the way he so seriously taking his part. You couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his mind, what had him acting his little heart out. 

“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name.

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.” You cried out, mustering up as much passion as you could, realizing halfway through your lines you had more than you thought. 

“Cut, cut!” Ms. Newman cried out, waving her arms at you. “I think we’ve heard enough from you two, let’s let someone else have a chance at this scene. Rebecca, Trevor, why don’t you two go next?”

You hopped down from the platform you had been standing on and followed Peter off of the small stage, taking a seat beside him. 

“Good job.” He nodded to you, a shy smile on his lips. 

“Oh, uh, thanks. You weren’t so bad either.”

“Not so bad? You think I’m a shitty actor, Y/n?” Peter teased, giving you a slight nudge.

“I didn’t say that,” you rolled your eyes, “I just didn’t realize you had such passion and gusto. it was very impressive.”

“Yeah, well that was all me since your pep talk wasn’t much help.” 

“I’d like to think it was pretty good. Very honest. Honesty is what makes pep talks great.”

“Isn’t the point of a pep talk to lie to a person so they can do something they think they can’t?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Well, duh, but you could do it so I didn’t have to lie. It was a kinda anti-pep talk.”

“You’re kinda anti-everything aren’t you?”

“I like to think of myself less as ‘anti-everything’ and more of a rebel outcast.”

“You’re the co-captain of the cheer squad.” Peter replied very matter-of-factly as you fell silent, leaving him without a response. “You hear that?”

“Oh, I hear you.” You replied, crossing your arms over your chest, “I wish I didn’t.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but shut it as Ms. Newman began talking.

“Alright, class! We are at the end of time, so I will announce who I have picked as our leading man and lady. Can I get a drum roll, please?”

The class erupted in hands rapping and drumming on tables and legs as you crossed your fingers, eyes shut. 

“Please, don’t let it be me. Please, don’t let it be me.” You mumbled to yourself as the noise began to dial down.

“Romeo will be played by Peter Parker-”

“Yes!” Peter gasped, punching the air beside you. 

“-and Juliet will be played by Y/n L/n.”

“Fuck!” You hissed softly, groaning as you put a hand to your face. 

“Thank you all for your time today, the rest of the roles ad castings will be on the board if you’d like to look at them, otherwise, have a great lunch! We will be leaving the theater open for you to go over your lines and learn them together.”

You gripped your bag as you stood up, slinging one strap over your shoulder as you made your way out of the classroom, Peter trailing close behind.

“Holy shit, Y/n! Can you believe it? We got the lead roles!” 

“Oh, goody!” You gasped, mocking his happy demeanor as he made it beside you. 

“You know, you’d be a better actress if you could at least act excited about this.” 

"Ugh, sometimes I can’t stand you.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Peter chuckled as you gave him a playful push, pushing you back while you both entered the cafeteria. 

You couldn’t stand him sometimes, but there were moments, mostly when you thought he had a sense of humor and you could laugh together, that you thought Peter Parker wasn’t so bad. Sure, he was a know-it-all and a goody two shoes, but he wasn’t that bad once you got to know him, even if he was annoying at times. 

Peter handed you a lunch tray as you both scurried into the lunch line, knocking your trays together as you picked out your lunches. 

“Do you ever wonder how we’re friends?” Peter asked after moments of silence.

It was as if he read your mind. You handed the lunch lady the change for your lunch and guided Peter to your usual table with Ned and MJ. 

You shrugged. “Nah, I don’t really like to question myself on the things I do. Act, don’t think. It’s better that way.” 

You took a seat beside MJ on one side of the table as Peter took a seat besides Ned. 

“Are you okay?” MJ asked, looking over at you with a concerned look on her face. 

“Why? Did that pimple I popped this morning not go away?”

MJ shook her head. “No, not that. You look flushed.”

“Y/n and I just found out we’re gonna be Romeo and Juliet for the spring play.” Peter stated simply, taking a bit out of his pizza. 

MJ burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. 

“Oh, my god, that’s a great joke, Parker. A fucking riot.” 

“I’m, uh, I’m not kidding.” 

“No, you’ve got to be joking, Y/n would never agree to that.” 

“Uh, actually...” You cut in. 

“Holy shit, you’re not kidding.” MJ’s smile fell slightly as she looked at you, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you out of your chair.  “Y/n, I have to go to the bathroom, come with me.”

“Oh, okay.” You agreed awkwardly, allowing her to begin dragging you from the table.

“That was weird.” Peter stated as you followed MJ out of the cafeteria. 

“Agreed.” Ned muttered, watching MJ and you interact from the doorway. 

“Why the hell would you agree to being in the spring play?” MJ questioned, her arms crossed over her chest as she glanced back into the open doorway of the cafeteria. 

You groaned. “Ugh, I-I really don’t know! I panicked! Newman announced it and I just accepted my fate.”

“Did you accept your fate or play along with the fact that you get to be up close and personal with Peter?” 

“Don’t you dare insinuate the fact that I-”

“That you what? Have feelings for Peter?” MJ asked, giving you a smirk as you felt the same warmth in your cheeks as you had in class. “You act like I don’t know you, that we haven’t been friends since first grade. I know when you like a boy.”

“I don’t like Peter. He annoys me to death. Quite frankly, he sucks.” 

“Tell that to the blush on your face.” 

“You bitch.” 

MJ shrugged. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me for telling the truth.” 

You tore your gaze away from her and looked into the doorway to the cafeteria, your attention now on Peter and Ned as you could see them talking to one another before Peter looked away and over at you, your eyes making contact. You quickly looked away, turning your attention back at MJ. 

“What do you think I should do?”

__________________

You walked down the hallway towards the theater, slipping past students as you made your way through the crowd, gripping your backpack tightly. You ran through the little plan MJ and you had concocted, repeating affirmations to yourself as you approached the door.

After admitting that you didn’t hate Peter as much as you led on, MJ walked you through the plan she had been secretly putting together the moment she had figured out you had feelings for Peter. 

The plan, as MJ illustrated, was simple. You told Peter how you felt. 

You went through about one hundred different ways to tell Peter how you felt, each one making you sick to your stomach with anxiety. 

As you entered the theater, you could feel that anxiety bubble up with every step and every thought as you got closer and closer to where Peter had decided to set himself up on the stage. 

“Hey.” Peter greeted, looking up from his script as you set your bag down on the ground beside his. “So, I’ve been going over the script since study hall and I think we should just start with the scenes that we’re in together and then on our own, go over our separate scenes.” 

“Uh,” You cleared your throat, “yeah, yeah. That sounds like a good idea.” 

Peter raised a brow at you. “You okay? Normally you try to fight me when I tell you what to do.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just stressed since I have cheer practice after this.” You lied. 

“It’s Wednesday, you never have cheer practice on Wednesdays.” 

“Maybe I do, how would you know? Do you stalk me or something, Parker?” You snapped. 

“No, God, never mind.” Peter cleared his throat. “No need to yell. Let’s just go over act one, scene five.”

You nodded, letting out a relieved sigh as silence fell between the two of you as you looked for your lines in the scene. You could feel your chest grow warm as you held your breath, awaiting Peter’s next instruction, pretending to read your script as your mind wandered. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong MJ was about Peter. It was clear he didn’t like you in any way other than a friend. And why would he? You bullied him constantly and bickered over trivial things with him. Hell, you’d even once gave him all the wrong answers on a test when you’d realized he was copying you and then went back to fix your own, making him get a 40% while you had gotten a 90%. 

“Y/n, did you hear me?” Peter’s hand on your arm forced you out of your own head. 

You shrugged his arm off and nodded. 

“Alright. I’m ready when you are.” 

“I’m ready. Go on.”

Peter reached out towards you, taking your hand in his before you pulled away quickly.

“What are you doing?” You snapped, holding your hand away from him.

“I was acting, you know, as the script tells me to.”

“You don’t have to touch me.”

“It literally says that I have to take your hand.” Peter argued, reaching out for you again. “Just give me your hand, okay?”

You held your hand out for him to take with a confused look on your face before he took your hand, a shy smile on his face as he pulled you closer too him. 

You stumbled over your own feet as he pulled you closer, tripping and falling into him.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You gasped, looking up at him, his hands still firm on your hips. 

“It’s, it’s fine.” Peter replied, gazing down at you.

“You can, uh, let go of me now.” 

“Oh, right! Right.”

Peter let go of you as you stood up straight, fixing your hair as you looked at him. 

“Maybe we should go over lines now?” Peter asked awkwardly, hand on the back of his neck. 

“I have a confession to make.” You blurted out, immediately regretting saying it. 

“What is it?”

“Peter, I just need to tell you this. I think I like you, and I know you don’t feel the same--.” 

“Y/n, I really like you too.” 

You fell silent, staring at him blankly before responding, “I don’t know what to do with that information.”

“Oh, shut up and let us have our moment.” Peter chuckled, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him again before kissing you softly.

[veiledsilver]

Top five moments you've felt like the universe was messing with you.

Oh boy everyone get ready this is a long list. In descending order, from mildly funny looking back on it to "oh god oh shit oh fuck":

5. Catfishing: College Edition

In 6th grade, I decided to apply to colleges early to see how they were like. I was scared that if they knew I was too young, they'd arrest me. So I created a gmail account as my persona, a white 12th grader named Emilie Alexander. Emilie was planning to go into nursing, dating a high school linebacker named Kyle Kenderson, and deathly allergic to bee stings. If she even came near a bee, she would die.

This part was of the utmost importance.

See, I was constantly paranoid that one day, the jig would be up- I might forget that my fake last name was Alexander. Or the college dean might come knocking at my door and tear up my home in his mad search for Emilie. If that happened I would fake her tragic death, presumably caused by one big fucking bee.

I secretly collected my information. What nearby states were the prettiest to visit. Which colleges were the safest and most affordable. How often they held courses that I liked. In my emails with colleges I tried to sound as mature and professional as possible.

Then, one day, a college member asked me what high school I was in, so they could check my records.

My blood froze.

It was time to bring out the bee.

In response to their question, I sent an email that was like this:

"Dear Mr. McLaughlin, I was a proud graduate of- ugh! Ah! Kyaaaa! Uwaa! W-w-what's this... huge goddamn bee doing here?! Eek, pardon my foul language! It's just that, as I told you earlier, being stung by a bee would kill me.... and now it's stung me thrice (three times)!!

What do I do?! I can't die... I've always wanted to attend your beautiful college...

But this is... the end...

Mr. McLaughlin...

*looks at you sadly*

Tell... my mother... I loved her...

*dies*"

He never responded, probably because he was rendered speechless, but I never touched that account again.

My private gmail for fun stuff like tumblr still has "Alexander" as a surname, though.

4. Wild and Authentic

Alright. Alright. So. My art teacher in middle school.

Right off the bat, they endeared themselves to the tumblr art kids- they proudly used they/them pronouns, dyed their hair vibrant colors, deeply encouraged OC creation, and was chill with any art style even if it was anime. Mx. Mason was very cool, except for one thing.

We had complete artistic freedom when it came to their assignments, EXCEPT FOR ONE THING.

Drumroll, please.

Take a deep breath if you must.

Ready?

...

Cats had to have extremely distinct whisker pores.

YES, they believed that modern depictions of cats were too streamlined. Too... idealized. As a cat owner themselves, they were convinced that society's vision of cats did not do their feral feline ancestors justice. In making their faces flawlessly smooth-furred, we were stripping the cat of its true nature.

I found this out the hard way, when I was drawing warrior cats fanart for class (it was of Firestar cuddled in the arms of an orange haired anime catgirl who was his reincarnation in my first ever comic series, Warriors Neko Desu! ♡ Heart Academy Dokidoki).

Mx. Mason came over to look at my magnum opus, and I expected them to have their socks knocked off at my artistic talent. They lifted up my drawing for all to see, and I smugly leaned back in my seat.

Only for them to launch into a passionate lecture about how, in neglecting to draw whisker pores on cats, I was DENYING THIS FICTIONAL CAT OF ITS WILD AUTHENTIC SELF.

My friends absolutely lost it when I told them this story, and there was a period of time when all our discord nicknames were wild and authentic too.

As for Firestar and his counterpart Hoshineko Orenji-chan, I never did give them wild authentic whisker holes, but that's to be expected of a kittypet, I guess.

3. Stan Jungkook Or Whatever

A couple years ago, my family and I flew to Seoul, South Korea, to visit our relatives and teach me more about my heritage. It was very nice! I got to visit shrines and festivals and palaces, and I was in awe that this was what my ancestors had once seen in their daily lives.

Then, when we went to the modern side of Korea, I realized just how much I didn't fit in.

It was clear that I didn't know how to act, or how to speak Korean, and I spent my days fumbling around and getting scammed multiple times by salesmen. But I clowned myself the most... during an interactive event with kpop stars.

They had this experimental event where holograms of the boys would sing onstage and dance in place of the actual idols. Before the show began, girls could stand in booths that scanned their appearances, and holograms of THEM could dance onstage with the hologram boys.

I didn't know this.

When Cousin Ae-cha told me to step inside one of the machines, I thought I'd be hilarious and stand backwards, so it would scan the back of me instead of my front. As I walked out, I saw other girls putting on their best makeup, cutest clothes, and most expensive accessories, and I slowly realized that I was in danger.

But the danger didn't come until halfway through the concert, where the boys looked eagerly off-stage and a holy staircase appeared and all the hologram girls descended from heaven. There were cherry blossoms. There were roses. There was me, among the crowd of beautiful airbrushed girls, walking backwards.

I felt the judgemental gazes of twenty girls and their mothers.

Each boy danced with a girl, who got a cute animated moment with special effects, and sang about how they found a dream girl to have a true love romance with. Finally, all the girls vanished except one, and it was me.

One of the boys didn't dance with any girls, and now he was all alone in the rain, feeling dejected that HE did not find his true love girl to have a dream romance with. Then the rain stopped, the sun came out, and I emerged. Still backwards.

He was thrilled and sang about how my face (that he didn't see) stole his heart, and now everyone in the audience was giggling, and he slowly brought me very close to kiss me... but because I was backwards, his nose was cutely nuzzling my hair.

The audience members- at least the adults- were now laughing their asses off. His lips met the back of my head, and together we vanished into the wind.

I'd say I couldn't show my face there ever again, but I never did show my face, so... hm...

2. Horrid Little Temptress

If I wasn't a minor, I'd need a drink before starting this story. Sadly, I cannot drown my sorrows- and neither should you after you hear this, because it's only fair.

Mrs. Appleby was my Spanish teacher in like, 9th grade. Even the wild and authentic art teacher thought she was insane. Appleby forced kids to brew tea for her and yelled at them when they didn't get it right, and I thought she had a chronic squint until I realised she just did that to mock me and my Asian eye-folds. She forced us to watch Dora the Explorer to "absorb knowledge." Everyone fucking hated Mrs. Appleby.

But the worst thing she ever did... was during the school festival.

See, whenever she's angry, she zooms right into kids' faces to scream at them. Her wrinkled flesh would blot out the goddamn sun and all you see are her bloodshot yellow eyeballs so victims just stayed rooted to the spot like cornered animals or something similar. This is important.

Because when she was sampling her own brownies (read: hoarding them so no one else could eat them), one parent foolishly decided to grab one and she thought it was a student and she grabbed his wrist so hard she could've nearly snapped it and... and... zoomed into his face.

Except she underestimated his height and kissed him by accident, but it was more like her mouth was sucking in his face like a vacuum.

His wife was shrieking like an ape. His kid, my classmate, saw his social life flash before his eyes.

In her defense, she did not mouth to mouth with him on purpose and afterwards she cried in the bathroom and when I foolishly followed her in to comfort her, because I am a teacher's pet through and through, she snatched the paper towels I got for her and wailed that she was a-

A-

HORRID LITTLE TEMPTRESS.

If I had decided to not be kind, I never would've heard that string of fucking words. But I did. And I paid for it dearly. The end.

1. Violence IS The Answer, Sometimes

Thomas, my dearly detested.

Back in sixth grade, I used to have a crush on him because he had the surfer boy look with nicely tanned skin and pale blond hair and the clearest aquamarine eyes I've ever seen. He also liked surfing and swimming. He seemed like the perfect little trophy waifu except for one absolute dealbreaker.

He and his parents were extremely conservative and so, when I told him I liked him, his response was basically "haha no you're a [slur] and would probably eat my dog."

I was horrified and ran away to cry. But then, by the next day, I decided I needed to punish him. Thomas walked in before class started and I was waiting for him with these hands. I kicked him so he doubled over, slammed his face into his chair's seat, and quickly clambered on top of him to SIT ON THE BACK OF HIS HEAD. He started shaking and twitching and trying to pry me off, but eventually he went limp and stopped moving.

I thought he fell asleep, but Mohammed, another classmate who was bullied by Thomas, told me that Thomas might never wake up again (not that he was very sad about this. I didn't know until later, but Thomas said slurs at him too).

While I was sitting on the guy, he'd straight up passed out from the lack of oxygen.

Screaming and crying, I told our homeroom teacher that Thomas suddenly fainted, and she was the type of Caucasian that thought all little Asian kids were sweet and innocent, so it didn't even cross her mind that? It might've been me? Who sat on his head when she walked in?

He was sent home early that day. I had to go to a different school next year because Thomas's mom threatened legal action. The only reason I didn't get punished further was because my rich cousins out-Karen'd her and donated a huge amount of money to the school to keep them quiet.

Anyway, I never did anything that insane ever again, because something like that is enough for a lifetime. My cousins made it clear they would never back me up again. I was sure this whole event would be put behind me, too.

But last fall, during my first day of online learning... who did I see in my zoom meeting... BUT THOMAS! I had my mic and camera off, but the moment he saw my name, his face went pale. His soul would've left his body, but then it would've gone to hell, so it wisely decided to stay inside.

Still, out of shame and embarrassment, I never turned my camera on for the rest of the school year.

[smutty-ki113r]

Hiya! I saw your blog and was interested in asking for a romantic matchup! You can involve nsfw if you would like.

My name is Ronan, my nickname is Ro, my most used pronouns are she/her/he/him. My sexuality is demi-sexual meaning I don’t get sexual attractions to people unless I have formed a strong emotional connection with said person. My zodiac is Scorpio (that’s pretty much all I know about that lmao) also my personality is ISTP-T

Starting with my mental trash I have a VERY low self esteem. I never liked the way I look and probably never will. I suffer from chronic depression that’s pretty much taken over my life. I have a very hard time with social cues and can come off as an asshole most of the time and I’m extremely blunt. People tend to think I’m cute since I’m fairly small; I’m a 5’3 Nordic female with thicker thighs. I am absolutely OBSESSED with The Legend of Zelda franchise, it’s been apart of my life for as long as I can remember. I’m pretty musical; I play bass, drums, and sing. I also voice act so that’s really fun. Not gonna lie I say I have a huge ego but really I just hate everyone. Having depression I mostly lock myself in my room and work on my art.

How I look: I have black/brown hair in a boy cut. I have big round hazel eyes, my face is round with slightly chubby cheeks and freckles. I want to get my lip pierced but sadly have not gotten to that yet.. My fashion sense is kinda everywhere but I typically go for the cottage core aesthetic. I love muted nature ish colors, I think they look so pretty. I love to go on long walks and sit alone at my local park. I find being alone outside very calming. When I’m not outside or in my room I’m mostly playing video games with my friends and kicking their ass. Believe it or not I used to do boxing but now I just lift weights and workout some. I have a long history of physical illnesses that really render my body kinda useless so I always try to strengthen myself up however I can. I spent most of my childhood in the hospital due to these illnesses. I have been homeschooled my whole school years but I taught myself German, Japanese, and computer science. I actually have a job around it. I’m terrible at explaining my feelings and asking for help so telling people I love them is a huge chore for me. A lot of the time you can find me alone singing to myself with my eyes closed daydreaming.

I love to read. My friends say I’m really boring but whatever. OH I’ve always wanted to be a DJ. I know its a really weird dream but it just looks so cool. Nobody ever expects the sick quiet girl to want to be a DJ. Speaking of shy I’m a huge introvert if you couldn’t figure that out already. I’m extremely shy, don’t talk to me I’ll run away or you’ll be enveloped in my Zelda talk. I have amazingly crazy music taste (according to my mom) I listen to mostly heavy metal and Corpse Husband.

NSFW: Huge HUGE brat. You want me to do something? Yeah fuck you. I���m a huge sub you can pretty much do anything to me. I have a big daddy kink like please let me call you daddy UGH. Also praise but degrade me at the same time? Please thanks. I’m also a pillow princess. Um um ddlg yes thanks.

I match you with…..💖BEN_DROWNED💖

NSFW bellow~

OK OK I KNOW I KNOW, DON’T @ me for picking Benny boy for you Ro. I just think it’s the right fit. Let me start off with the whole depression thing, BEN relates to locking himself in his room and hyperfixating on something. At least you’ll have a gaming buddy to get you through it. Plus, he’s a very competitive guy. Get him to not cheat and you will have fun for hours. Not to mention you sound a bit like Jeff in the way that you can come off as rude. BEN and Jeff are pretty good friends, so you’ll make a wonderful partner for BEN.

Voice acting? BEN will love that, he’ll try to get you to do different characters from his video games or even anime characters. He loves your chubby cheeks, likes to squish them and make them puckered and then give you kisses. It’s quite adorable. Zelda talk? Yeah you don’t need to worry about him running off about that.

BEN will be obsessed with the cottage core, probably likes those little white flowy dresses. Maybe one day wear those elf ears and surprise him, I think he’d think it’s cute. You should definetly do his makeup, put that holographic glitter on his cheeks and some hair clips in his hair- maybe a skirt if he feels up to it.

BEN is very understanding about your illnesses, in fact he would be super impressed that you even lift weights. And is so so supportive about you wanting to be a DJ. He gets excited and calls over Jeff to show him. He’s not very shy about saying I love you, maybe the first time but after it’s constant affection.

For the smut! He can get rough sometimes, loves the daddy kink. He’s the type to soak all that up like a sponge. Praises you for taking his cock so well but will call you pathetic for making those noises. Probably wants you to wrap your thighs around his head and suck your clit for hours, he likes to feel you cum.

Ok Ok I hope you enjoyed that! I love how you have a big ego and then- low self esteem, sounds like me. I literally hate myself so much and then… holy shit I’m the hottest person alive. I know what depression is like, those thoughts just wrap around your throat and choke the life out of you, and it’s not even fast. It’s every day just heavier and heavier, dragging you down and making you feel horrible. I mostly lock myself in my room too, but writing helps me through it. I love love love your hair, boy cuts are so cool. And get that lip piercing! IT WOULD LOOK AWESOME. I love that you’re talented in music, I wish I was musically inclined. Scorpios are so cool, like I said, my best friend is one and so I LOVE YOU GUYS.

I am so incredibly proud of you, homeschool and then the illness stuff must be so hard but you are so strong for going through it. You don’t deserve it but sometimes life works that way. It’s ok to be shy and introverted. For the record, I think you would make an awesome DJ. DO it, I believe in you, so should you. I mean we all have our passions, work hard enough and I promise you’ll get there. I used to write a lot about my feelings and nobody ever read it, but I continued and look where I am now! Im so proud of myself for having this account, and you for being ALIVE. Thats all you need to do, you don’t need to be cool, or popular or skinny to be an amazing person.

Ro, I swear you are an awesome person. I can clearly see it, and I promise one day you’ll look in the mirror and think the same. If your friends say you’re boring they aren’t your friends. They sort of suck because reading is so cool. Without readers I couldn’t be a writer now could I? I believe in you. I know you can do it. Lifting weights is so badass I couldn’t even- I can barely do 5 pound weights man. Ya know I believe that the people who go through the most pain and sadness are the ones who will be the happiest in the end. The universe has to give us back what we lost, there is balance in everything and pain is only temporary. Everything is temporary. So I promise it’ll be ok man, and hey, you’re valid. I see you ro, and I know that you’ll make great places someday.

[requiem626k]

Hello my dear Req, I'm here again to ask for some classical music you could recommend me🤭 Usually I would ask for piano music, but I've been in the mood for one with a harp in it lately! And I know you're busy with school and all that so please take your time hehe. And take care🥰

Hello there, my dearest Kat ❤️! I’d be so delighted to recommend you more pieces, it makes my little heart so happy that you’re interested in them 🥺💕

I hope you’ll like my selection! I tried to include variety in terms of vibes, nationalities and eras this time (Austrian-Classical, Russian-Romantic and French-19th century), instead of sticking to a single man 🤭 I’ll try to keep it short and simple (no that’s a lie, I won’t be able to 😶)

And thank you so much for your consideration, things have been pretty busy for me indeed so I’m sorry for the extremely late post 😖 And I know that uni is soon starting for you, so likewise, please take your time to listen to the pieces <3

That being said, let’s start~

Mozart - Als Luise die Briefe ihres ungetreuen Liebhabers verbrannte

Of course, it wouldn’t be Req’s post if it didn’t start off with Mozart. This is a short lied like Das Veilchen (the one that I previously shared), the title is long haha and it means “As Luise Was Burning the Letters of Her Unfaithful Lover”. As you can guess from its name, this is really, REALLY dramatic. It’s in c minor, a tonality that Mozart doesn’t use so often (but when he does, oh boy, see his Great Mass in c minor 🤤) but which is perfect for its fierce mood. Also it’s fairly special for me because we used to sing this in our music theory classes haha, I would play the piano accompaniment while practicing with the classmates before every oral exam.

I truly adore this lied. The lyrics are once again taken from a poem, a poem of Gabriele von Baumberg, she apparently wrote it at a very young age (18 or so).

My heart melts at 00.34 omg, that soft “melancholie” and the silence that comes after 🥺… It’s truly one of those silences that make you agree with Mozart’s quote:

The music is not in the notes, but in the silence between.

Then, it takes a cheerful turn (he just can’t refrain from putting happy sprinkles 🤭) until the strong chord at 00.49.

I think the section that starts at 01.00 is so worthy of being noted, I love love LOVE the suspense and tension that the piano accompaniment creates and that finishes with a strong build-up.

And the chord at 01.32… I leave my heart there. It just has me so soft. It’s so bittersweet, Mozart for some reason repeats the phrase “May smoulder long yet in my heart.” twice at the end and it’s just- 🥺

As always, he knows so well what word must be cited with what emotion, and chooses carefully his chords and functions. I just love it, and wanted to share since you had liked the previous lied 🤭

Rachmaninoff - Piano Concerto No. 2

*inhale* This one’s gonna be long, I can feel it.

I have literally SO MANY things to say about this one.

Rachmaninoff is a famous Russian composer that you might have heard of. He’s part of the Romantic Era which is, to simplify, about pouring your emotions and the turmoils in your life into your art and depicting feelings instead of trying to stick to certain rules and ‘holy’ virtues, of which we had already talked about a bit hehe.

And this piece… Oh my. You’ll see how different this concerto is compared to the Mozart ones we listened to previously. His second piano concerto corresponds to a depressive episode of his, due to his works not having a big success and being criticised so harshly. This beautiful piece is his comeback work, and you can just feel the inner conflicts, the emotional tornado he had at that period. With Mozart’s concertos, your soul is purified, they softly caress your insides and comfort you. But here, Rachmaninoff takes your emotions, and he proceeds to crush it. He plays with it, throws it, abuses it, you sob and sob and sob. At least I do 😭.

First movement

One can perfectly sense the dark pessimism in the first, silent, dangerous chord. As the 8 chords come one after another, every single one stronger than the previous, you’re on your toes and the tension increases until finally hearing the main theme through violins at 00.43. Listen to that theme very well. It’s so beautiful, so so moving, the piano section creates a fierce, dangerous background and I always get goosebumps when the violins come in.

Then, at 02.30, the second main theme is heard through the piano, pay attention to that! You will encounter it under various forms through the movement 🤭 It’s much softer compared to the first, ominous theme, it creates a beautiful contrast.

I want to note down the beautiful oboe-piano duet in 04.14 🥺. I adore oboes, it has a really beautiful and soft vibe, and here its melody is just so bittersweet when combined with the piano’s accompaniment. Then at 04.35, the piano starts playing a really soft phrase, the soft touch at that high note at 04.46, oh my God my heart. I have a feeling that you’ll adore that part 🥺 I want to note down literally every second omg

At 05.22, it turns once again really quiet and ominous, foreshadowing a big outburst through a build-up. The flutes play a big role in that aura through their short but dangerous phrases.

I especially adore the part at 06.17 in this pre-outburst section, it’s reminds me of a wave of emotions that keep hitting you and stepping back, only to strike even harder afterwards. The flutes in the background reinforce this vibe. The tension gets higher and higher at 06.36 (omg I’ll faint I love this part, I’m trembling while listening to it and trying to write this at the same time, I can’t keep up with my thoughts aaa) through the constant mutual escalation of both the piano and the orchestra. THE BEAUTY OF THE BUILD-UP PLEASE I WILL LOSE MY MIND.

And all this preparation was for the beautifully passionate part at 07.02. Rachmaninoff notes down “Alla Marcia”, meaning it should be played like a march, and its rhythmic features most certainly have that vibe. It’s just so majestic, so pompous, so raw, I love love LOVE it. It’s almost like you’re swooning in euphoria after having an emotional build-up and breakdown, it’s just- it’s something else that I can’t even describe. I just don’t have the right words for it.

I know that the piano’s melody is so alluring and enchanting there, but maybe in a second listen, I’ll want you to pay attention to the violin part during the march section 👀 Can you hear the very first theme that was introduced at the very beginning of the movement? Rachmaninoff was a total genius to put it in the background and make it fit so well. I always hesitate between paying attention to violins or piano, I end up rewinding it every single time 😖 It’s soo good.

After the euphoric section, the second theme comes again. A thing that’s worth noting down is the flute’s beautiful addition at 07.53, it’s in the background but it just makes my heart melt. I also always get goosebumps at the few ominous, sinister seconds that starts at 09.17 😳

Then it goes pretty quietly until the ending hehe, like a calmness after storm 😌 This piece is a total emotional rollercoaster, I swear. At 11.01, I love the playfulness of the piano section, it’s just so mischievous like a little naughty kitten. Then it picks up the pace, and ends with three strong beats.

Ugh. 🦋🦋🦋

Second movement

(meme credit goes to @/pianoomemes on Instagram)

This meme says it all. I don’t even need to add anything else. As you know by now, the second movements are meant to create a sharp contrast with the first one’s mood, and 🥺😭.

The main melody… It has my heart. The movement starts with a soft piano-flute introduction, and the ethereal main theme is heard at 12.56 through an oboe.

I don’t really any other commentary to do on this heavenly movement. Just let yourself in its embrace without any technical/guiding worries <3

(Though I feel obliged to add that the part that truly has me in this movement is 22.17 🥺. It’s just so moving and sweet ahh, it just takes you away, it almost has a sentiment of longing I feel, I always have a drop of tear forming in my eyes at that part.)

Third movement

The third movement is a usual, playful, jokester movement hehe. It’s a general pattern for final movements as you might have noticed, even though this one’s not written under a Rondo form. It’s rare that I say this, but I feel like this final movement is as charming as the second one for me 🤭 (No movement surpasses the first movement though, personally of course~)

The theme that starts at 25.51 through violins is so so charismatic, it almost always flusters me 😳✨.

Then he naughtily plays around with themes, modulations and instruments haha, I’ll leave the commentary at that and leave you once again alone with the movement itself 😌

(The majestic comeback of the charismatic theme at 34.09 though 😳! I’m *this* close to thirsting over a theme omg it’s MESMERISING I want to cry.)

Fauré - Cantique de Jean Racine, Op. 11

And finally, to fulfil your wish 💕, here’s a piece from Fauré where you can hear one of the most beautiful usages of harp in a work, in my opinion.

Even though it’s a religious work, its lyrics are in French. Fauré is a French composer from late 19th century, and even though he’s not that well-known among the media he’s a really unique composer that we can’t even classify in a certain movement. He’s from the same era as the French Impressionists such as Debussy or Ravel, but his style is much more different than theirs. He even has his own unique chord chain etc. that we use the term “fauréen” in harmony classes. But anyways, onto the piece 🤭

I really have no proper words to describe how heavenly, ethereal, poetic, incredible, awe-inspiring and soft this piece is. Like oh my God. I feel my heart melting into a puddle and tear up every time I listen to it. I just can’t bring myself to believe that he was only 19 when he composed this for a competition, if my memory doesn’t deceive me.

The beginning with the orchestra and harp is making a truly beautiful beginning, and the first moment that I want to talk about is 01.09, it always gives me goosebumps when the sopranos come in on the background that the basses and tenors had created.

At 02.00, there’s a soft oboe that comes in for a few seconds and only plays four notes, do you hear it? Those four notes can have my heart 🥺. It’s so beautiful omg. It’s crazy how the littlest touch could make such big of a difference. He could’ve easily not put it there, but he did and that’s what makes a good composer.

The “que tout l’enfer” at 02.24 is so fierce, so mad, “enfer” means “hell” and Fauré really accentuated its meaning, I love it.

And when the piece comes to the ending, at 04.14, a soft flute plays the beginning of the main theme for the first time I believe, which is a really enchanting change for the ear.

And the ending is just so, so soft like the whole piece, I truly can’t. The main melody is just so beautiful, and he truly did an impeccable job with mixing all the voices, the orchestra and the beautiful harp together. I just turn into a soft, soft bubble made out of cotton every time I listen to this.

~

Ahh this was a long ride, I truly hope you enjoyed the pieces, my beloved! I wasn’t sure which style or composers you would like the most, I guess we’ll try and see 😳❤️

Just for the sake of archiving them, I’ll also add the links of the beautiful pieces we discussed on Discord.

Fauré - Barcarolle no. 1 (Fauré brainrot is strong with me nowadays haha)

Mendelssohn - Etude no. 1 op. 104b (I feel like you’d love his A Midsummer Night’s Dream overture ngl, because Shakespeare 😳 I didn’t add it here though since it doesn’t contain piano or harp)

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: barbie movies as troupe plays part 1 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw

𝐚𝐧: if you think i won’t do all 36 barbie movies, you’re wrong. regardless of whether people want this or not. i have barbie brainrot 24/7. i’m just separating it into parts so it’s not too long *this isn’t meant to be that serious y’all my reasons vary from legit to just jokes

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥: i won’t go in-depth with any plot differences from movie to play, or how the characters would work out... for now *chuckles in future ppt*

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏: nutcracker, rapunzel, swan lake, princess and the pauper, fairytopia series, magic of pegasus, barbie diaries, island princess, three musketeers 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐: coming soon 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑: coming soon

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐞: mixed troupe! spring x autumn. one of the seasonal events/scouts for A3! has a nutcracker theme, and to avoid spoilers that’s all i will say :3

𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭: since this is based on barbie’s take on the nutcracker, changing up the cast from what tsuzuru had in plan:

clara/sugarplum fairy: sakuya. i want to see him go through a costume & hair transformation sequence, not gonna lie. 

nutcracker/prince eric: juza. obviously he has to be the ruler of the land of sweets.

mouse king: sakyo or chikage. i want one of them to wave around a sceptre and say quotes like “i’ll reduce the Nutcracker to a pile of splinters"

pimm: taichi... pimm is a spy :O who has to do dirty work :O but the real reason is i just want taichi to follow around sakyo again or maybe even chikage this time lol

major mint & captain candy: tsuzuru and citron respectively. mint is pretty serious and awkward, candy is a lot friendlier- i just think it’ll be a good way to insert some humor in the play

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐞: mixed troupe! summer x autumn.

𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭: rapunzel in this one actually is the “servant” of gothel. also, rapunzel has a magical paint brush and also there’s dragons. who are purple. 

rapunzel: kazunari. obviously. actually, kazu has a lot of similarities with her: a good artist, patient, adventurous, quick thinking, hardly ever complains- also he’d look good with long hair i think ><

gothel: omi. there is an action fighto scene + also just the theme of omi playing villains lol... also THERE’S A SCENE WHERE GOTHEL PRETENDS TO BE RAPUNZEL BY WEARING A LONG WIG AND BOI- KAZU AND OMI’S BODY BUILDS ARE SO DIFFERENT BUT IT’D BE FUNNY IF THE PRINCE FALLS FOR THE TRAP ANYWAY

penelope: kumon. a PURPLE funny and clumsy dragon- fight me, the only answer is kumon especially once you see who’s next.

hugo: juza. a PURPLE dragon who’s penelope’s dad but he’s gonna be the older bro in this one (i wonder why...) 

hobie: a passive and worrisome rabbit... Tenma.

prince stefan: he also has a couple fight scenes... ngl bc stefan has blue eyes, light brown hair + described by the wiki as “fierce”, he’s banri. 

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐞: winter troupe. i will stand by this forever. 

𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭: this is like one of the ones i’ve had figured out for a while already...

odette & odile: tsumugi. i’m just saying, tsumugi’s duality- he can do both the white and black swan because he has power. impact.

prince daniel: not tasuku bc spare him the prince roles he’s sick of it. guy. why guy? because he obviously has a good idea of how to act like a prince :3 

rothbart: HOMARE! I WANT! THIS MAN! TO PLAY THE ANTOGONIST! GO OFF ABOUT DARK ARTS! TRANSFORM EVERYONE TO ANIMALS LIKE THE EXTRA BEING YOU ARE.

fairy queen: azuma. ugh just- imagining how ethereal he’d look.

erasmus: tasuku. he’s a troll that can act mean, but is genuinely kind and helpful... also, the VA of erasumus is also the VA for “unnamed burly villager” and i’m just saying-

kelly the cygnet: hisoka. there’s too many animal children, so hisoka is gonna be the baby swan. uwu. also, kelly has a quote, “I can't sleep.” and wOW THE IRONY

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐞: WE’RE GOING FOR THE COMEDIC ROUTE WHAT’S UP SUMMER. reason: i went “wait... no actor really looks super alike though.”

𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭: tafahfuoahoaf it’s my favourite barbie movie... OKAY SO THE RUNNING GAG OF THIS IS THAT THE PRINCESS & PAUPER DON’T LOOK ALIKE, BUT EVERYONE KEEPS GOING “Wow! you two look so identical!” no they don’t

anneliese: muku. first of all please look at the sprite i used in the header. anneliese = pink = muku. she’s the sweet princess archetype... but in this version she also goes on tangents about rocks and mineraLS AND HOW THE MINING INDUSTRY SUX AND THE ABSOLUTE AUDACITY OF-

erika: kumon. first of all, the sprite in the header again. erika = blue like ugh this is perfect. ALSO erika has a cat who BARKS and i just imagine kumon talking to her cat like: WOOF WOOF WOOF GRRR GRRR and the dog responding and everyone in the palace going wtf

king dominick: i had such a crush on him anyway he’s tenma. rich, young, talented king who disguises himself as a page so he can find love for realsies. im just saying. he won’t be tenma’s only role tho ><

julian: kazunari. the wiki went “he’s the only bestfriend a barbie MC ever married” really shook me like ugh friendship dynamic between muku and kazu roles??? also kazu’s genuinely smart so him as the tutor was just gucci in my eyes

preminger: misumi. FIRST OF ALL PREMINGER IS ICONIC? WHEN HE SANG HOW CAN I REFUSE I WAS LIKE UGH KING. i just wanna hear misumi play an antagonist that’s also funny and do things with his voice.

madame carp: yuki. a bossy and rich woman who owns a dress emporium. pretty much it.

nick & nack: YUKI AND TENMA. THEY WILL DOUBLE ROLE FOR THE SAKE OF BEING MISUMI’S DUMB UNDERLING DUO

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐞: spring troupe. i wanna see them have wings uwu.

𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭: just gonna combine the whole fairytopia series into one 

elina: itaru. first of all, pink motif. also i just like the idea of itaru being this recurring protagonist.

bibble the puffball played by kamekichi

laverna: recurring villain citron. for no reason other than i think it’s cool when he plays power hungry villains

enchantress: i just want sakuya to play a role that’s more of a “powerful character” but still really kind uwu. another recurring good guy.

azura & glee: tsuzuru. elina is azura’s apprentice, and glee is a friend who’s generally really happy... ngl, i wanna see tsuzuru play someone more energetic for funsies

nori: masumi. nori is kind of a stubborn and jealous person at first, him and elina won’t get along right away BUT DAMMIT THE ENEMIES? TO FRIENDS IS GUCCI!!! 

merman prince nalu & linden: chikage... yeah i just gave chikage the guy roles ngl... but i wanna see chikage as a handsome merman AND handsome fairy so *shrugs*

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐞: cross troupe. spring x winter.

𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭: partially based on the ice-skating cards (i have yet to read the event story, unfortunately).

annika: tsuzuru. i thought it’d be fun to cast tsuzuru as a more sheltered character due to annika’s parents’ protectiveness. the contrast y’all.

shiver: sakuya. shiver is a polar bear cub sidekick who’s friendly and likes shiny things and that’s just... really cute... put bear ears on sakuya...

brietta: guy. brietta is annika’s older sister... who got transformed into a pegasus by the villain... i wonder how they’d change the pegasus thing lol

wenlock: tasuku. NOT GONNA LIE- i want tasuku to play the villain for all these wonderful one-liners: "Oh, smile! You didn't lose a daughter; you've gained a pet!", and "I thank my lucky stars I didn't marry you!"

prince aidan: masumi bc i want more roomie interaction on stage i mean their friendship keeps getting cuter and cuter.

cloud queen: azuma... that’s all. i just remembered her bc her hair has a braided crown, and i went “azuma braided hair brainrot”

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐞: mixed troupe! summer x autumn.

𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭: i was gonna make it full autumn, but then the age casting felt awkward since they’re in high school...

barbie: taichi. barbie here is shy but wants to stop blending in the background! i just went “damn that do be resonating”. also i wanna hear taichi sing more y’all and barbie is a singer/guitarist here

courtney: azami. i like the idea of azami playing a spunky character who’s more of a tomboy, but still does like fashion and accessorising and... lip gloss?

tia: misumi? tenma? idk the intelligent and passionate archetype is very broad... especially in a high school setting

kevin: kazunari. just the whole best friend thing + kevin being a goofy person who loves to make ppl laugh ugh

racquelle: yuki. i know racquelle’s a bully here and say not to bullying... but sharp tongue.

todd: honestly? todd was so boring in the moving. we need someone like banri to give him CHARACTER!... yes that’s my reasoning ugh

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐞: sUMMER SUMMER SUMMER-

𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭: AHAHAHA WHAT IS THIS CASTING? MY REASONINGS FOR THIS ONE IN PARTICULAR ARE SO SHALLOW LMAO

ro/rosella: “a 16 year old girl who can talk to animals! adventurous and brave” me: *gasps* mISUMI-

prince antonio: “prince antonio loves travelling and exploring-” okay yeah it’s kazu...

queen ariana: i just want yuki to sing to me “love is for peasants which we’re obviously not” and i’d go :O also ngl... i wanna see yuki in like darker palettes and plotting to poison all the royals

princess luciana: queen ariana’s daughter... played by muku. because i wanna hear muku counter yuki with “all the shoujo mangas books i’ve read, all the poems always said, that the heart is made to share...”

sagi the red panda & azul the peacock: honestly, just basing it off of colour matching but tenma is sagi and kumon is azul lol

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐞: AUTUMN x SPRING

𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭: AHAHAHA WHAT IS THIS CASTING? pt 2 

corrine: i keep wanting to put sakuya in these roles oops. i just... let him sword fight on stage again :>

viveca: purple musketeer, artistic, designs clothes... fights with ribbons... you know, for the sake of banri being a fAshIoNisTa... it has to be banri y’all "Don't mess with the animal print dress!"

aramina: green musketeer, fights with fans, romantic and loves ballet... pfft, for the sake of “wouldn’t it be funny-” it has to be azami. poor bby, having to swoon over romance on stage- he can’t relate

renee: chikage. purely because of that scene where she threw a feather duster (?) at a flying shard of glass and perfectly hit it. yeah.

helene: the old and strict instructor that teaches them how to be musketeers... sakyo.. duh.

philippe: the main antagonist... it has to be omi again. and since philippe has a goatee, we’re bringing back facial hair omi~

prince louis: itaru, lol. he’s like the one significant non-action oriented character in the film. he has just enough moments where itaru still looks princely, but mostly? he just wants humans to fly y’all.

want to order again?

[janeykath318]

Darcy and the Prince (Shieldshock)

“I’m going to be so happy when this is over and we can all get on with our lives,” grumbled Darcy, as she helped her friend into her very beautiful white wedding dress, fit for the princess Jane was about to become. Jane had met the Asgardian Prince Thor while visiting the country on a science quest (as Darcy referred to her research trips) and the two had, against all odds, fallen head over heels in love and became engaged a year later. Despite the meddlings, of Thor’s troublemaking brother Loki, they’d made it to the wedding day and Darcy was playing bridesmaid and generally trying to keep Jane from going full bridezilla. 

“Hmm, maybe you’ll be singing a different tune once you’ve met some of Thor’s friends,” Jane suggested, as she was buttoned up. “He knows a lot of attractive, single, people.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and grimaced as she worked on the last few buttons. 

“Ugh. NO, JANE. I do not need that drama in my life right now. I’m gonna finish my masters, then go globe-trotting and enjoy being single and free. Men are more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Sometimes I want to wring Ian’s neck for what he did to you,” Jane said vehemently. Darcy’s last boyfriend had turned out to be an utter cheating scum and she’d ended up with a broken heart, hence her general annoyance with men. 

“Thor and I got our revenge,” Darcy said, smiling at the memory. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to trust again. Don’t be sad, Janie. I’m super happy to have you and Thor and Eric as buddies. Now, let’s get finished so we can get you down that aisle!”

Before she knew it, Darcy was preceding Jane down the aisle and trying not to start bawling. She was a shameless wedding weeper and knew it would be even worse this time since it was her best friend getting married. 

As she blinked rapidly, she took a glance up front where a beaming Thor was standing, along with several other very striking, very well dressed men. She caught the eye of a gorgeous blonde decked out in full prince uniform and he smiled at her, which did funny things to her insides and it took all her self control to not stare at him through the whole ceremony. 

Of course, by the time the happy couple kissed and was announced as husband and wife, Darcy could barely see through her tears and just hoped she’d grabbed the right man’s arm to walk her back down the aisle. 

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled to her unknown escort. “I always weep an embarrassing amount at weddings and these dresses NEVER have pockets to stash tissues in.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” a very pleasant voice answered. “I admit, I shed some tears as well. Luckily, I always carry a back up handkerchief. Here.”

A soft cloth was pressed into her hand, and Darcy gratefully accepted it, finally managing to wipe the tears away. Vision cleared, she was able to see her helpful person and let out a gasp as she saw it was the gorgeous blonde princey dude. Up close, it was clear she’d grabbed the arm of Prince Steven, one of the most swooned over royalties to ever grace the papers. 

“Wow, thanks, your highness,” she said breathlessly. “I’m afraid this thing is ruined. It looks like my waterproof mascara is not actually waterproof.”

She held up the handkerchief, which was now smeared with black streaks. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Prince Steven said, pretty blue eyes crinkling in a smile. “Like I said, I’ve got extra.”

“You’re the best,” Darcy blurted, then turned red. “Ohmm….. I’m gonna go repair the damages before they start the pictures. Will you let Jane and Thor know where I’ve gone? It should only take a few minutes.”

“Sure,” the Prince said kindly. “And please, call me Steve.”

Darcy ventured to look back at him, and saw nothing but genuine friendliness in his kind eyes. She fell a bit in love right there.

“Nice to meet you…...Steve,” she managed, a tad shyly. “I’m Darcy, by the way.”

“Lewis?” he asked, recognition appearing in his expression.

“The very same,” she confirmed. “I take it Thor’s mentioned me?” 

“He sure has,” Steve answered. “He calls you his lightning sister and is frequently expounding on your wit, brains, and beauty. I’d have to agree with him. You are stunning.”

Darcy felt herself blush like a tomato. 

“You’re one to talk, Prince GQ,” she sassed, to cover up her internal freak out over his compliment. “Be right back!” 

With that she picked up her skirts and swished off to the restroom, leaving Steve looking after her with great amusement and interest. Darcy Lewis was a very strikingly lovely woman and the blue dress she was wearing greatly flattered her figure and emphasized her bright blue eyes. Thor had tried to set him up with her before, but Steve had stubbornly refused. Now that he’d met her, He thought he’d been an idiot. 

“Are you well, Darcy?” Thor inquired, when she had rejoined the others.

“Yeah. My mascara betrayed me and made me start looking like one of those goth rock stars,” she told him. “That’s the Last time I use THAT brand. Congratulations, by the way.”

She offered up hugs to the happy couple, before they were whisked away for pictures with the official royal photographer. 

Spotting Steve, she casually strolled over and watched a bit as he talked to a group of individuals, who must have been his friends, because he looked so much more relaxed and was laughing and smiling in a very jovial manner. He kept his public persona very buttoned up and stiff, so seeing him like this was utterly fascinating and Darcy was becoming more and more attracted every minute. She chatted with Bruce Banner for a little bit, then helped Jane manage her train in between shots. 

They were so cute together, it was almost sickening. Thor looked at Jane like she was his whole universe and Jane looked at Thor like he was the only man in existence. 

“I want to look at someone the way she looks at him,” Darcy murmured, half to herself, half to the blue and gold clad figure who had joined her. 

“Me too,” Steve agreed, sounding very wistful. 

“Shouldn’t be that hard for you, dude,” she pointed out. 

He chuckled ruefully, blushing a bit.

“I’ve discovered there’s a big difference between starstruck lust, and real love and I haven’t seemed to find the latter yet. Most of them aren’t interested in getting to know the real me at all.”

“That’s sad,” Darcy told him. “You seem like you’d be very interesting, once you get past the whole princely trappings and regal persona. Tell me, Steve, what makes you tick?”

Steve turned to look at her, and she felt like the blue eyes were piercing through her, searching for something. Whatever he saw, it must have eased his mind, because he took a deep breath and started talking.

“For one thing, I’m very passionate about using my position to do as much good as I can, not be just some stuffed shirt figurehead,” he told her. “I’m also very fond of the arts and am in the process of starting an art school for underprivileged kids. I’m hoping they’ll let me teach, because I love to draw and paint.”

“That’s awesome,” Darcy said warmly, giving him an approving nod.

“I also love dogs and help out at the shelters whenever I can.” He continued. “They’re so much more pleasant than dealing with parliament.” 

Darcy laughed at the distaste in his voice, but never got a chance to say anything else, because duty called. They shared a few looks across the room, and Steve shamelessly winked at her once when she pretended to strike a diva pose. 

They didn’t get close enough to actually talk again until the reception, when he sauntered up to Darcy as she was giggling at a ridiculous archery joke Clint had made. 

“Excuse me. Darcy, would you care for a dance?” He asked, holding out a white-gloved hand.

“Y-you’re asking me?” Darcy squeaked. 

“I don’t see any other Darcys around here, unless one of you has something to tell me,” Steve said dryly, squinting at Clint, Natasha, and Bruce, all of whom knew him. 

“Nope, not it,” Clint said, shaking his head.

“She’d love to,” Nastasha answered, giving Darcy a nudge forward.

“Yeah, I would, “ Darcy managed, taking the offered hand nervously.  Steve’s hand closed around hers and she felt a tingle up her spine.

She was in a dreamy daze as the prince expertly guided her around the floor. It was clear his princely education had included good dance technique and he was absolutely courtly about it. 

“Now, Darcy, it’s your turn to tell me what makes YOU tick,” he said after a few minutes of silently gazing at her. 

“Well, I live fueled by coffee and sarcasm, I majored in political science, and I’m not afraid to use my taser on creeps and jerks,” she told him proudly. “Also, I may have a thing for tall blonde princes.”

“Is that so?” He asked, a dangerously flirty tone in his voice.

“Yup,” she admitted. “Which is a little inconvenient seeing as how I’ve sworn off men.”

“That is too bad,” Steve agreed. “Any chance of possibly changing your mind?” 

“I’ll certainly let you try,” she told him, struggling to keep her mind from its fantasies about his magnificent broad shoulders and muscular arms. 

“Good,” Steve said, with another one of his stunning smiles. (If he kept doing that, there was no way she would be able to hold out long.)

“You look like you’re already planning your persuasive tactics,” she told him.

“Well, they don’t call me The Prince With A Plan for nothing,” Steve said, twirling Darcy around dramatically. Yeah, she was in SO much trouble. 

[cake-writes]

Compromise (Part One)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Bucky, Ex-Relationship, Co-Parenting Drama, Angst, Fluff

Summary:  You didn’t want to trust him again, because every time you did, Bucky broke your heart just a little more. Deep down, though, you wanted to get along with him. You wanted to be amicable. You wanted your daughter to know her father. You’d always wanted that. It just required a compromise.

I really don’t need to be working on yet another WIP but here I am, like a clown!

It all started with some of the best sex you’d ever had in your life. You know the kind: rough and desperate. Needy. Passionate. The kind straight out of a romance novel, blazing hot and full of love. The kind that, even four years later, served as inspiration for your fantasies – even if you despised the man responsible.

No, that was a lie. You didn’t despise him. You just wished that you did.

It made your toes curl then, and the memory of it still did, even now. The only difference was that you used a toy. That was all you could do, because in between your job managing a small café and your three-year-old daughter’s care, you had zero time for dating. You were Winnie’s mother and primary caregiver, because of course you were. 

Her father was the Winter Soldier, after all.

The two of you split when Winnie was just thirteen months old. Unsurprisingly, the court didn’t give Bucky custody, not when so much of his past was bound by red tape. You knew that it wasn’t his fault, the things he’d done, but you were still surprised he’d gotten anything at all. Not only was Avenging a dangerous line of work, but it was the exact reason why you’d left.

He only got to see her once a month, with supervised visits – visits that were much harder on you than on your daughter, but you put on a brave face just for her. Maybe some small part of it was for yourself, too. You were still in love with him – or with the idea of him, you weren’t sure anymore, but the fact remained that he chose his work over his new family out of some misguided idea of making up for the awful things he’d done.

He chose Steve. He chose Sam. He chose his past over his present.

Not you.

The visits were difficult, but manageable – when he even managed to show up, of course. It was about fifty-fifty whether or not he’d show, usually because of work and he often tried to reschedule last minute, which you eventually started to refuse. You and Winnie had a set schedule, and you’d be damned if you deviated from it because of him and his neverending excuses.

You did try, once. You tried to work with him, tried to empathize – at least until he rescheduled three Saturdays in a row and Winnie’s poor little heart shattered to pieces. She was inconsolable for weeks, and needless to say, you stopped trying after that. He didn’t deserve it, not when he hurt your young daughter so easily.

Your usual meet-up place was the small park near your house. There wasn’t much else around, anyway, not like inner city Manhattan which you so desperately missed. You couldn’t afford to live there on your meagre barista salary, so you moved shortly after your trainwreck of a break-up. Moving caused an even bigger rift between you and Bucky, one only worsened by heated arguments and nasty words.

Upstate was where you moved, about three hours away from the city.

Upstate was where Bucky was living now, too, about fifteen minutes from your home.

He broke the news during an impromptu lunchtime visit to your café, one you especially did not appreciate due to the fact that he’d shown up at your workplace. It was almost like he’d known you wouldn’t be able to leave, as you so often did when he tried to talk to you about anything. You always put on a smile for your daughter when you dealt with him, but she wasn’t here and you had no reason to be nice.

The mug in front of you sat untouched as you stared down at the coffee within, delicate latte art slowly melting away while you processed what he’d just said. He was going to be just a few miles down the road at the new Avengers facility, and though he didn’t say it outright, the implication was enough: he could come here anytime he wanted to; could pick Winnie up from preschool anytime he wanted to; could see her anytime he wanted to, court order be damned.

You’d been reduced to nothing more than a barrier keeping him away from his daughter – your daughter – and it stung. Then again, that was what you’d become. That was what you’d been forced to become, because of him. 

A barrier. 

A bitch.

“I want to see her more,” he told you, but his cordial tone did nothing to hide the thinly-veiled threat. “It’s been years since the last agreement. Things are different now.”

Don’t make me get a lawyer was what he meant.

What’s worse was that you knew he was right. He’d been cleared of all charges, and although his work wasn’t exactly ideal for childrearing, he earned much more money than you did. Not only that, but with the compound right down the road, there was no way he’d be denied this time. If the two of you went back to court, he’d get joint custody. Fifty-fifty. Equal. You knew it, and he did, too. He was forcing your hand.

“You barely make it to your monthly visits as it is,” you responded evenly, though inside you were about ready to scream. “How are things different, Bucky?”

“I’m close by. We’re training more Avengers, so my hours are flexible. I’ve already talked to Steve.”

Why couldn’t he have talked to Steve two years ago?

“I can show you around the compound, if that’s what you want. It’s better than the tower.”

You remembered the tower. You hated the tower. It was no place to raise a child, what with all the missions and the parties and the late-night take-offs which constantly woke Winnie from her sleep. The one good thing it had going for it was the security.

Somehow, he’d remembered your gripes. You couldn’t decide if you should be flattered or not.

“I’ve even got a spare bedroom for her now, sweetheart. Can’t we make this work?”

“Don’t call me that,” you finally snapped, to which Bucky held his hands up in a show of surrender. He didn’t offer an apology, but then again, you didn’t want one. You didn’t want any of this.

Except maybe you did.

You chewed your lower lip, coffee now long forgotten in favour of worrying about the future. You didn’t want to trust him again, because every time you did, he broke your heart just a little more.

Deep down, though, you wanted to get along with him. You wanted to be amicable. You wanted your daughter to know her father. 

You’d always wanted that.

And if you didn’t, then the next step would be a lawyer. You didn’t have the time or the money for another custody battle, whereas Bucky had plenty of both and he certainly had no qualms about going down that route. This visit was just a last-ditch effort before he did.

“Fine,” you acquiesced through grit teeth, “but I want to see it first.”

“Yeah?” he asked, blue eyes wide with surprise.

For a moment, you were rendered speechless. God, you hadn’t seen him look at you like that in years. The last time probably would have been when you told him that you were pregnant with Winnie. 

Even now, you were still so weak for him. You always managed to stay strong for your daughter, but never for yourself. You missed him, and, well, it wasn’t like you had a choice in the matter either way.

“Yeah,” you repeated, reluctant and hollow.

That weekend, you found yourself staring up at the gates to the compound in awe through the windshield of your small beater. The compound was indeed much larger than the tower had been; you couldn’t see much from the road, but there was plenty of acreage. Plenty of room for Winnie to run around and play, almost, if it wasn’t practically a military base.

When you pushed a button, the CCTV camera came to life, whirring as it likely zoomed in your faces through the side windows of your car. “Ma’am, this is the Avengers Facility. You might have the wrong—”

You abruptly interrupted him with your name, followed by, “And this is Winnifred Barnes. B-A-R-N-E-S.”

There was a long pause, then, as the guy on the other end seemed to realize who you were. Then he had an immediate change of tone. “Oh, that’s— that’s today! Right! I’m so sorry, ma’am!”

Ugh. You weren’t old enough to be a ‘ma’am.’ 

Were you?

After the gate started to open, you slowly made your way up the long driveway, humming quietly to yourself to calm your nerves. That was when Winnie started to sing along with you, the same off-key tune that the two of you often sang together in the bathtub. She’d never been a fan of baths, so you used the song as a distraction. Now it was supposed to be your distraction, but it didn’t work very well.

You parked next to a small fleet of shiny black cars with tinted windows, feeling just as out of place now as you did when you and Bucky were dating. You’d always made coffee for a living, while he was… him. How you even managed to make it work for nearly two years was beyond you, as brief and fleeting as your whirlwind romance had been.

“Is Daddy here?” Winnie asked excitedly, peering out the windows at the large complex of buildings. Her breath fogged up the glass and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Yes, baby,” you told her as you got out of the car and slung your purse over one shoulder, before you opened her car door. “Daddy’s here. We’ll see him soon.”

She bounced happily as you unbuckled her from her car seat, and then you hoisted her up onto one hip and shut the door with your free hand. After that, you slowly made your way up the steps to what you assumed was the main building.

Christ, this place was massive.

Just before you got to the top, the glass double doors up ahead were shoved open and there was Bucky in all his glory – tall and muscular, just like always, albeit almost out of breath. His hair was pulled back into a loose, messy bun, strands of hair framing his face in the familiar way you’d always loved, and the stubble on his face nearly made you swoon.

You hated that you were still attracted to him.  

“Sorry, we’re a little early,” you admitted, nodding to your daughter. “Someone wanted to see you.”

As if on cue, Winnie shouted, “Daddy!” and reached out for him with her little arms, making grabby hands in his direction. She was so eager that you might have dropped her once, but you were used to her excitement.

Bucky met your eyes for a moment with a note of appreciation before he turned to her. Then and only then did the corners of his eyes crinkle up in a genuine smile – one directed at your daughter, not at you, one not meant to keep up a charade like the two of you were wont to do. That was the only type of smile he offered you, and that hurt, too.

“How’s my best girl?” he cooed, peppering her face with noisy kisses.

She giggled and half-heartedly tried to push him away. “Daddy, no! It’s scratchy!” 

At that, he just rubbed his stubbly cheek against hers some more, lightly, not enough to hurt, and she squealed. He slid his hands under her arms with ease before he lifted her up and away from you, and although you knew he wasn’t being malicious, you always hated giving her up.

She just slung her tiny arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. It had been awhile since she’d seen him – probably about two months, now, and you didn’t blame her. You’d missed him, too.

“How was the drive?” he asked you, holding Winnie against his side as the three of you made your way inside. With his free hand, he held open the glass door for you.

“It was a whole twelve minutes,” you responded dryly, more joking than not. Twelve minutes was much better than the nearly three-hour commute from when he was living in the city; not that you had to make it very often, as it was usually his responsibility. “Not too bad. Thanks.”

You weren’t really sure what you were thanking him for. The door, maybe.

Bucky paused to study your face for a moment, hesitant, before he quickly lifted Winnie up onto his shoulders, adorable peals of laughter escaping her. The ceilings were tall enough to offer plenty of leeway, and she’d always enjoyed being able to see things from such a high vantage point, especially someplace new like this. 

“I bet Auntie Nat will be so happy to see you, sweetpea,” you told her, more to fill the silence than anything else. Bucky sure looked like he wanted to say something to you. He had that same reluctant expression on his face, the very one that creased his brows and made your anxiety skyrocket.  

Thankfully, he seemed to understand that you weren’t willing to discuss whatever it was yet, and instead chimed in, “She’s waiting for us upstairs, princess. Do you wanna go see her?”

“Yeah!” Winnie sounded incredibly chipper as she gripped two handfuls of Bucky’s hair in her small fists, almost like the reigns to a horse. “Let’s go!”

You stifled a laugh as she half-directed him where to go. The stairs were steeper than you anticipated, and by the time you reached the next floor, you were well and truly winded. The second flight was even worse; they were both already at the top by the time you got halfway there, because Bucky took them two or three at a time.

“Come on, Mommy!” Winnie cheered.  

“I’m coming, baby,” you called out, holding onto the handrail for dear life. That wasn’t an exaggeration.

One step, two, then three and you finally made it there. It wasn’t that you were out of shape, exactly – except, well, you were. You’d never completely lost the extra weight that came along with having a child, and you definitely didn’t have the time to work out with all of your other responsibilities as much as you would have liked to.

Bucky’s eyes were soft on yours when you glanced over at him, to which you huffed and quickly looked away. Knowing he’d seen how out of shape you were was embarrassing enough.

“Where’s Auntie Nat?” Winnie asked, then, and you were never more grateful to her for it.

“She’s making lunch for us,” Bucky told her, gently placing a hand on your lower back to guide you in the right direction. When you froze up at the unexpected contact, he immediately pulled it away, like he’d only just realized what he’d done.

If your heart wasn’t already racing, it certainly would have been after that.

“How’s that sound, Win? Are you hungry?” you asked as the three of you walked into the large kitchen and living area. The open floor plan was full of expensive things you’d only ever dreamt of, no doubt courtesy of Tony.

“Yeah!” she responded happily, which soon became an excited shriek when she spotted Natasha spreading peanut butter onto a few slices of bread. On the marble countertop in front of her was also a jar of strawberry jam, Winnie’s favourite.

“Hi Winnie,” Natasha greeted. “Guess what I’m making?”

“Peanut butter jellies!” Winnie exclaimed, wiggling a little, clearly ready to get off of Bucky’s shoulders to properly say hi to Natasha. Predictably, he plopped her onto the floor with ease, and she did just that. The sound of her scampering across the unfamiliar tile brought a smile to your face. It almost sounded like home.

Natasha kept her entertained while you and Bucky watched in tense, uncomfortable silence. If nothing else, you were glad that Winnie was able to spend some time with her two favourite people. You, of course, weren’t one of them. You weren’t the fun parent. Bucky was.

“I’m sorry about the other day,” he said, then, softly enough that Winnie couldn’t hear.

You didn’t look at him, instead focusing on what was on the other side of the room: the two black leather sofas surrounding a large flat-screen TV mounted to the wall, with a lavish coffee table in front. All you noticed were the sharp corners and invisible price tags. You weren’t broke, exactly, but all of this was much nicer than you could afford.

“Don’t be,” you replied with a shrug. “She’d be over the moon if we had such a big TV at home.”

“I’m happy to give you more,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. “Why am I not surprised you’re still driving that car?”

At that, you shot him a look that clearly conveyed your displeasure, to which he met your eyes in challenge.

You didn’t want more money from him. You only accepted the bare minimum of child support because it was court-ordered, and even that was a blow to your pride. You and Winnie were managing just fine without the ridiculous sum of money that Bucky made whilst working with the Avengers.

“It still runs. Why would I get rid of it?”

“It’s not as safe as the newer models,” Bucky responded far too evenly for your liking. “You know that. Are you really going to let your pride get in the way of our daughter’s safety?”

“She’s fine,” you hissed. “Are you really going to do this right now?”

“Mommy? What’s wrong?” came your sweet little girl’s voice, then, and your bristly demeanour disappeared in an instant. You always did your best not to argue with Bucky in front of her, but every now and then he just had to push your buttons. This was one of those times.

“Nothing, honey,” you said with faux cheerfulness, walking over to the counter where she was now seated, jam smeared all over her cheeks and chin. “Mommy’s just hungry, that’s all. Can I please have a bite?”

Winnie just beamed and held out one half of her sandwich to you. That was when you noticed that Natasha had lovingly cut it into triangles, just as she always did, and your smile suddenly felt more real than it had in days.

After you took a bite, you brushed Winnie’s soft brown locks away from her forehead and left a kiss there. “Thank you. Now be a good girl for Auntie Nat, okay? Mommy and Daddy will be back soon.”

“Okay, Mommy,” she said so sweetly, you couldn’t help but give her another kiss. Then you shared a warning look with Natasha – almost as if to say keep her out of this – before you walked back over to Bucky.

Together, the two of you went back out into the hallway to finish the argument he started. You were already ready to rip his head off after his unexpected visit-slash-threat earlier in the week, not to mention the snide comment he’d just made about your ability to parent.

The moment the door shut behind you, you were in full attack mode, zero to sixty in no time whatsoever. “Damn it, how many times do I have to tell you not to pick a fight in front of her?”

“Well, maybe if you were more reasonable—”

“More reasonable? Maybe if you made an effort to actually show up every once in a while—”

“What the hell do you think I’m trying to do here, sweetheart? She’s three and I’ve barely seen her!”

“And whose fault is that?” you spat, jabbing your finger into his chest for emphasis, “You’re the one who’s always working, Bucky! You know how excited she gets, and whenever you let her down, I’m the one who has to try and make her feel better! I’m the one making promises you can’t keep!”

Bucky exhaled slowly, then, in a clear attempt to calm down. The two of you never used to fight like this, but ever since you moved away, things had been beyond tense and you’d long since been forced to recognize when he really was trying to control his temper.

Of course, things weren’t always so bad. There were days where both of you were at least somewhat amicable towards each other, maybe even friendly. In fact, this one seemed like it might have been heading in that direction – in the beginning, at least.

Then he finally spoke again, tone clipped, “Let me show you her room.”

Yeah, like seeing whatever he had in store would suddenly make you forget the last three years. 

“Fine.”

Bucky led the way down a winding corridor on the same floor as the communal kitchen. You guessed that each floor probably had its own. The building itself was large and expensive as hell, more than anything you’d ever be able to afford. Just being here almost felt like a privilege.

You hated it. What you hated more was that you liked it. For Winnie, anyway. She deserved the world.

The door to Bucky’s apartment opened with a fingerprint scan, because of course it did. The technology reminded you of your shared suite in the tower once upon a time. 

The apartment wasn’t anything impressive, more of a bachelor pad than anything, but at least it was clean. A grey suede sofa was the focal point, across from another large TV. Boys and their toys, you supposed. At least the coffee table in here had no sharp edges. 

On the other side there was a small kitchenette – big enough for one person, but not necessarily two. Then again, Winnie didn’t eat nearly as much as an adult so that wasn’t really a problem.

Down the hallway, you spotted three doors: one on the left, one on the right, and one at the end. Bathroom, spare room, and his room. At least, that was what you assumed.

You were right.

The second you opened the door to the spare bedroom, your breath hitched in your throat. It wasn’t overly pink or girly like Winnie’s room at home, but you could immediately picture her living here. Not all of the time, because you did still want primary custody, but it was evident that Bucky had put a lot of thought and effort into this.  

There was a twin bed up against one of the walls, with a small guardrail to prevent her from rolling onto the floor – just like at home, where she’d only recently moved into a big girl bed. The sheets were a delicate lavender, and the duvet matched perfectly, white and purple gingham print. At the foot of the bed was a grey fleece blanket, which you absentmindedly brushed your fingers against as you took everything in.

In one of the corners was a small white desk and chair, and on top of it was a stack of children’s books. She hadn’t yet learned how to read, not really, but she loved being read to at bedtime. As you skimmed through the stack, you noticed that a lot of the books were her favourites.

Then you spotted the stuffed animals.

There were a bunch of them, with tags in an assortment of languages. You didn’t even have to look to know that they were from different countries. Bucky must have been saving them for a while. He already knew you had too many at your house as it was; you’d ripped him a new one for it once already, because he liked to bring Winnie one whenever he got back from a mission. You had so many now that they covered her bed, and then some.

He still was picking them up on his missions, it looked like. He just hadn’t given them to her yet.

When you turned back to him, you found him leaning against the doorframe with a hopeful look on his face.

“How long—” Your voice broke, then, and you cleared your throat in an attempt to sound like you weren’t about to cry. It didn’t work. “How long have you been collecting these?”

“Over a year,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he nodded to the room itself. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

You let out a shaky breath, willing yourself not to cry in front of him. That didn’t work either.

“Oh, Bucky,” you sniffled. “She’ll love it.”

He hesitantly pushed off the doorframe when he noticed you were upset. “Are you crying?”

“No,” you blubbered, burying your teary face in your hands before he could get a good look.

Bucky wanted to be there for your daughter. At last.

You were beyond touched by all the work that had gone into this, and although you weren’t happy about his unspoken threat of legal action, you could finally see why. He cared about her. He cared about her just as much as you did. He just didn’t show it as well.

The way Bucky wrapped his arms around you was gentle, unsure, but when you leaned into him his hold on you tightened just a little. It had been far too long since you’d been held, for one, and for two, god it felt good to be held by him. You’d forgotten what it felt like to be in his arms. 

You’d missed it – missed him.

That might have been why you finally managed to swallow your pride and ask, muffled and teary, “What car has the best safety features?”

When he pulled away just enough to look at you, he gave you a smile, the same kind where his eyes crinkled at the corners. 

It was genuine.

Part Two / Master List

[ineloqueent]

Starstruck: Part 2

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 2 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 1 / Part 3

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: swearing, slight sentiments of sadness

Historical Inaccuracies:

I realise that ‘Time Waits For No One’ was partially a composition by Dave Clark, and not only by Freddie, but I’d imagine that he’d have liked that whole concept anyway, before Clark came along with his musical.

The picture below is from Christmas Eve, 1969, but we’re going to pretend that it’s from February, 1975 :)

Word Count: 4.3k

‧⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧

You awoke with a terrible sadness in your heart, and heavy-limbed, you climbed out of bed to the sound of rain and somebody making coffee in the kitchen. With a look at your alarm clock and a start, you realised that it was already ten minutes past eleven.

You traded your pyjamas for slacks and a jumper Heather had once knitted for you, wondering why melancholy overwhelmed you as you combed your hair from your eyes.

Dazed by sleep, you wandered into the kitchen with a yawn shuddering your frame. You blinked blearily at the shirtless blonde in your kitchen who was drumming his fingers on the counter along to the tune he hummed.

“Roger?” you said, confounded.

He spun around with an equally bewildered expression, his hands raised as though he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.

His features broadened into a smile. “Y/N! You live here too?”

“Too?” you said. “Who else do you know here? And put on a shirt, Rog. You’re dressed if you’re in my kitchen.”

Roger stuck out his tongue at you, but pulled his shirt from where it’d been slung over a barstool.

You returned his lovely expression and he rolled his eyes at you in good nature.

You’d known Roger since you’d started at Imperial College and he’d started at London Hospital Medical College; you’d met him at the stall he kept in Kensington Market, selling clothes. Always talking about cars and his love for them, Roger was funny and charming, and quite intelligent, though the latter was a thing he downplayed in favour of his looks. You had never understood why boys thought that girls didn’t want a smart boyfriend, and when you’d mentioned it to Roger off-handedly once, visiting on a day he was working at the stall, he’d simply shrugged. “I’ll get them one way or another,” he’d winked.

Then, a sophisticated, sunkissed lad who was folding clothes had snorted from behind a clothing rack. “You won’t get her,” he’d said, referring to you. He’d then introduced himself with, “Freddie Mercury, darling. I can tell you where to find the nice boys, because Rog here isn’t one of them.” Freddie, of East Ealing Art College, was shy but creative, fashionable, and utterly lovely. He had known Roger since before school, and, aside from the clothing stand with Rog, was also in a band with him and a couple of others. Roger played the drums, and you knew that Freddie was an incredible vocalist, because you’d once caught him humming to himself and demanded he sing you more. You had fit right in with Roger and Freddie since day one, with your sharp wit and passionate romanticisms, and the three of you had quickly become good friends.

“So who’s the lucky lady?” you said, putting the kettle on for tea. For some reason, you didn’t feel like coffee this morning. The thought of its bitterness suddenly drew bitterness from you. “Or should I say ladies?” you trilled.

Roger smirked, leaned against the kitchen counter. “No, just the one lady. Think she’s still asleep, though, so try to keep it down,” he shushed.

You shook your head at him. “If she knows what you look like, she knows what you’re like, Rog. Don’t think you’ve got anyone fooled.”

“You’re such a good friend, Y/N. So supportive,” he drawled sarcastically.

“Funny,” you said, “I was told exactly the same thing last night, but I think he meant it, at least.”

Roger winced. “No getting down for you, then?”

You lobbed a coaster at him, but he caught it. “You need to stop just throwing things when you can’t think of anything to say, Y/N.”

“Stop being a prick, then,” you sassed him back.

“Okay, grumpy girl. Just because your little friend didn’t like you back.”

“For your information, he was actually very tall.”

A soft padding sound reached you from the doorway, and you glanced over to see Heather appear in the doorway, her mane of hair sticking up to one side and her pyjama top only half-buttoned.

“The hell is it with you people and shirts?” you muttered. “You’d think your mothers never taught you how to dress yourselves.”

Roger laughed at your comment, and Heather looked between the two of you.

“You know each other?” she said.

“Heather, honestly?” you scoffed. “My friend Roger who works down at the stall in Kensington?”

“Oh,” she said. “Same Roger?” You just blinked at her. “Common name,” she shrugged.

“You two know each other?” you gestured between her and Roger.

Roger’s smile was easy; he turned to Heather and his eyes ran over her, his lower lip between his teeth. Heather’s body language was obviously responsive.

“Ugh, no!” you said, rubbing your eyes. “Not a good image.”

“I thought we looked quite good together,” Heather flirted to Roger as you shuddered.

“Please don’t. Least not before breakfast,” you groaned, sliding off of the barstool as the kettle boiled.

Heather giggled, and you could still see Roger looking at her in your peripheral vision.

You busied yourself with making tea and pouring it into a thermos. Roger had walked over to kiss Heather, and you couldn’t get away from the sight of your two friends necking fast enough.

“I’m going out,” you said, grabbing the thermos, your keys, and boots.

“Oh, any chance you’re going to see Freddie?” said Roger from the doorway to the hall, arms around Heather.

You narrowed your eyes. “Why?”

“Got a message for him.”

“Could you not just telephone him?”

“There’s no phone at the stall.”

“Later, then?”

Roger frowned. “It’s important, please?”

You sighed heavily. “Fine, but only because I’m such a good friend,” you mimicked his words from earlier. “What is it, then?”

Roger grinned. “Tell him Clements says okay and eight o’clock sharp.”

Your puzzled expression seemed to amuse him. “I was going to tell you, but I’m sure Freddie will.” He waved a hand. “I haven’t got time right now.”

“You haven’t— oh forget it.” He’d gone back to snogging Heather, and there was simply no point in nagging him when it would be faster just to find Freddie.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

“Fred?” you poked your head around the stall, trying to spot him between the racks of colourful jackets and corduroy trousers, but failing for the life of you.

He popped up from underneath the table and you nearly leapt from your skin.

“Oh, hello, darling! How lovely of you to visit me,” he beamed, smoothing hair back from his face. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Jesus, Freddie, you scared me,” you exhaled laboriously, still recovering from your shock.

“Sorry about that, dearie. I’m afraid I’ve upset the moneybox and spilled it all under the table,” he said with an expression of dismay. “Help me look?”

You eyed your already questionably-clean trousers. “Yeah, alright then,” you said, squeezing into the stall beside Freddie. “Any idea how much was in there?” you asked as you sank to your knees.

Freddie lifted the cloth covering the table and threw it to the side. “Afraid not. Deacy usually handles finances and all that, after Norman Sheffield’s fuckery at Trident, y’know.”

You knew the soft-eyed, cheeky John Deacon as well. As the bassist in Freddie and Roger’s band and student of electrical engineering, Deacy (as he was known) was simultaneously the most well-mannered boy you’d ever encountered and also the greatest connoisseur of dirty jokes. Despite being only a year younger than you and Roger, Deacy was Freddie’s protegé, in a way, because Freddie had taken the younger boy under his wing in matters both of the musical world and of the world in general. You were quite sure that Freddie believed Deacy to be an innocent in need of protection, and that Deacy intended to keep his precious mentor fooled, particularly because some of the disco nightclubs that John had shown you and Rog suggested rather the opposite of his supposed personality. All in all, he was as dear to you as Freddie and Rog.

You laughed. “Freddie, this is just little coins. I’m sure you would’ve been okay to look after that.”

“Yes, well, not much time to count money when the most handsome men in London seem to stroll through this here market almost constantly,” Freddie huffed indignantly and you smiled in amusement. “Are you looking?” he said.

“Yes, yes,” you assured him, hastily picking up the coins in your immediate line of sight before beginning to scavenge for those which had rolled farther away on their escape routes.

“So, why are you here? I know you like our lovely little shop, but you’re usually studying on Saturdays.”

You sighed. “I probably should be. But Roger’s shacked it up with one of my housemates, my roommate, actually—”

“Heather?”

“Yeah, Heather.”

“Oh yes, he’s definitely her type,” gushed Freddie, spotting another coin and tossing it into the moneybox gleefully.

“He’s hers?” you said.

Freddie peered at you. “Well, really, Y/N. Roger’s type is everyone.”

“Fair enough,” you nodded. “And, oh,” you remembered, “I have a message for you, from Rog.”

“Ah. What’s it, then?”

“Uh, it seemed kind of cryptic, but he said you’d understand.” Freddie motioned for you to go on. “Let’s see. ‘Clements says okay and eight o’clock sharp’,” you quoted.

Freddie paused in his treasure hunt and clapped, “Oh, excellent!”

“Fill me in?” you pleaded finally, weary with excitement for that which you did not know.

Freddie clasped his hands. “We’re playing a gig, tonight, at the Union Bar!” he exclaimed. “We normally don’t play that small any longer, what with our increasing popularity, but we thought it would be nice to do a bit of an intimate concert once more, before we shoot for the stars and lose that privilege entirely.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic!” you said, knowing you were free tonight. You’d always wanted to see their band Queen, but the circumstances had never really lined up for you to do so, though Freddie had even offered for you to sit in on their rehearsals many a time.

“And you can finally meet our last puzzle piece!” said Freddie, his eyes alight. “Oh, he’ll adore you. Have I mentioned he’s studying some sort of science too? Maybe even similar to what you’re doing. I always seem to forget the name of it, though Bri is quite particular about it. He’d positively kill me with that glower of his if he knew I’d forgotten the name of it again. Oh, bugger,” Freddie went on. “It’s something to do with space. It’s on the tip of my tongue, I swear—”

But something had clicked inside of your head, and your palms felt oddly sweaty.

Freddie and Roger and Deacy had always referred to their fourth bandmate as simply ‘Bri’ or ‘Brimi’, or, in Fred’s case, ‘that bitch’, and so it had not occurred to you. You hadn’t known what he’d looked like, or anything about him, really, other than that he was a talented guitarist of a short temper and a motherly heart. But now you realised, with a fluttering sensation to accompany the thought, that you knew precisely who Brimi was, and that you had practically memorised his smile from seeing it nearly every morning of the past semester. Now, suddenly, the calloused fingers you had held in your own made perfect sense— Brian, the guitarist.

“Astrophysics,” you murmured softly.

“I’m sorry?” said Freddie, who had only just stopped in his flood of excited words.

“Astrophysics,” you repeated more loudly.

Freddie’s brow creased. “Yes, yes that’s it. I’d better commit it to memory, now. But how’d you know that? I’m sure I’ve never actually managed to tell you. I would’ve remembered such a momentous occasion.”

Your head felt suddenly quiet, though the thrum of your heart was sure to replace that silence with its own deafening beat.

You looked away, combing your fingers through your hair. “We’ve got the same morning class for our major,” you said, “and, uh, yesterday evening, when Heather went off with Roger, Brian and I had a drink together.”

Freddie gasped so vehemently that your eyes flashed back to him to be sure that he wasn’t suffering a fit or something.

“In that case, I’m sure he adores you already.”

“Freddie!”

“Think about it, Y/N! You’re both besotted by an absolutely absurd science that makes no fucking sense, and you’re friends with me and Roger and Deac already, so you must’ve gotten along like wildfire and a dry forestscape!”

“Freddie, that’s a horrible analogy.”

“That may be so, darling, but from the light in your eyes, you know what I mean.”

A strange blush engulfed your cheeks and you touched your fingers to your face, willing the flush to disappear. It didn’t.

“No idea what you’re on about,” you said.

“There’s still time.”

“Still time for what?”

Freddie threw his hands into the air. “For things to happen.”

“Nothing did and nothing will,” you countered, a little sternly.

“You’ll be lying to me before the month is through. I’ll find you more time with him, if that’s what you need.”

You ignored Freddie’s suggestive comments. “Time waits for no one,” you remarked instead.

“Now that’s a good line, isn’t it? Do you use it often, or would you mind terribly if I made something of it?” Freddie inquired.

“Pretty sure it’s a rather common expression, but I’m sure you’ll make something wonderful of it,” you said fondly, knowing his poetic habits.

Freddie winked at you. “I’ll certainly do my best. Now, I think we’ve got all the coins, so I say we get off of this filthy floor that the dust bunnies appear to have taken over, or what’s your view on the matter?”

“Time to depart the good Realm of Floor,” you agreed, stretching your creaking legs and giving Freddie a hand up.

“So you’re coming tonight, yes?” Freddie brushed dust and lint from his velvet trousers.

“Of course,” you said. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You’ve missed all the other times, though,”

“I know, Fred,” you exhaled softly. “But I—”

Freddie’s hand covered your shoulder. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, darling. We’re friends, remember?” he smiled comfortingly.

“And friends will be friends,” you responded, as you and the others had taken to saying, originally as a gag, but now as a sort of mantra to keep you going through the harder days.

Freddie smiled again. “Are you busy, or do you fancy going for lunch?”

“Sounds good,” you said. “Where were you thinking?”

“Just the pub. You know how much I enjoy their fish ‘n’ chips.” He meant Kensington Pub.

“Oh yes,” you recalled it very well. “I know.”

“Excellent! Well, I’ll just tidy up quickly and close, and we can be on our way.” You nodded, helping him to rearrange a few out-of-place things before he waved you off. “You don’t work here, dearie. We can talk about dear ol’ Brian while you wait for me, if you like.”

“Clearly, you’re the one who’s obsessed with him.”

“I won’t dispute that. He’s rather nice when he’s not attempting to control every little note of our music.”

“Which is... often?” you said.

Freddie nodded with ardour. “He’s got taste, mind you, but sometimes that taste just gets overbearing, if you know what I mean,” his tone was cheeky.

You folded your arms and leaned against the wall. “No, Freddie, I’ve entirely no clue what you mean.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

After lunch, the two of you took the tube from Kensington Station to Freddie’s flat.

Freddie opened the door to several different cats meowing at the return of their human, and he greeted each one by name, rubbing fluffy backs and scratching behind waiting ears as he passed.

The cats had encountered you many times before, and though many had at first been apprehensive at the presence of an outsider, they now greeted you as one of their own.

“I thought maybe you’d like to borrow a couple of our records to listen to before the concert tonight,” Freddie said, tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter and making his way over to where his record player and vinyl collection resided. He gestured to the crates and stacks of records, encouraging you to take a look while he retrieved Queen’s own works.

Despite the fact that your household contained a total of eleven people, Freddie’s music collection was far more impressive than that of your residence. Jimi Hendrix, Elvis, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, and Aretha Franklin seemed to dominate the collection, but there was a heavy presence of classical and operatic compositions too, from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet to Chopin.

“You have so many records,” you said, wishing there was more room in your monthly budget to spend on records, music that you could replay as much as you wanted, rather than waiting for— hoping for— the radio to cycle through your favourites.

“I’ve spent many years building up my collection,” Freddie told you, as though he knew what you were thinking and wished to remind you that such collections were not accumulated overnight; there was still all the time in the world for you to develop your own reserve of records.

“Ah, here we are!” he slid three volumes from a shelf, smiling fondly at the covers. “We’re not The Beatles, but I daresay we’re quite fantastic all the same.” He handed you the records, and you took them with care.

The first was mauve in colour scheme and depicted a person hoisting a sheared microphone stand into the air, illuminated by a singular dramatic spotlight. The second was a highly-contrasted rendering of all four members of Queen in (once more) spectacular lighting, and diamond formation. The third and final was all of them again, lying in a strange circular heap, eyes intense and skin shining with what was likely supposed to be sweat.

Your eyes strayed to Brian on the cover of the third album, the neck of his shirt pulled open, his lips parted and his eyes dazed. The image was suggestive, and Brian was attractive.

Blinking stray thoughts away, you tucked the last album behind the others and cleared your throat as subtly as you could manage. But Freddie had not thought you subtle; he grinned at you astutely.

“Rock and roll, then?” you said, though you already knew the answer. The point was, you were trying to change the subject.

“Rock ‘n’ roll,” Freddie emphasised. “We’ll have you educated in no time, don’t you worry. Homework is listening to those records. Come back again soon and I’ll swap you some Led Zeppelin and Aretha Franklin.”

“Varying taste,” you commented, desperately trying to coerce your mind from its previous focus.

“We’ve got to expand yours,” Freddie said. “Now go home and listen! We can’t have you standing mute and still in the crowd tonight! I plan on making sure you get up front, but I need energy from you for that to be justified, Y/N.”

“Okay, Mercury,” you smirked. “Such high standards, so demanding.”

Freddie sighed, “Got to be, darling. How else would I augment the quality of my music?”

“I’m definitely out of my depth here, Fred.”

He patted your shoulder. “Get out and go home and listen,” he said.

You made a face and Freddie stuck out his tongue at you. “See you later, dearie. Tell Brendan Clements when you arrive and he’ll get you past the crowds.”

“Fab. Later, Freddie.” You gave him a wave as you departed and he blew you a kiss.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You supposed there was one good thing about Heather and Roger’s newfound relations. Well, maybe two.

The first was that you knew Roger and he knew you, and he knew that you would dye his hair permanently peroxide green if he ever hurt Heather intentionally.

The second was that, after this morning, Heather and Roger had headed off to Roger’s place for a few days, meaning that you were free to dance around your room to whatever music you wished without suffering shyness and embarrassment about your moves when you were inevitably discovered. Your other housemates worked most days, and conveniently, your shifts at the local cafe did not coincide with the absences of your household; you would now have the house to yourself quite a bit.

Having abandoned your boots by your wardrobe, you picked up the first record, simply titled Queen.

“Memorable already,” you murmured, feeling oddly exhilarated.

The record was on the deck by your bed within moments, and you flopped down atop your covers to enjoy the music in one of the purest ways you knew how— by lying back on your bed and spreading your arms and letting the melodies carry you away.

The energy kicked in immediately, and to the vivacity of the music you would have sold your soul.

Freddie’s voice was unrelentingly powerful, and unmatchable in beauty. You caught hints of Roger and Brian singing between the thrum of Deacy’s bass lines, their own instruments, and Freddie’s lead vocals, and the effect of the four of them together was unforgettable, astronomical, meant to make history.

Their talent as musicians was riveting if appreciated on its own, but Queen were artists too. How they could have thought up the stories they told, both through lyrics and without any words at all, you did not know.

Record after record, their voices rose together like waves, rushing over you and tossing you in their midst. You felt you were made of stardust, not only in the sense that everything of the past was still atomically part of everything present, but also in the metaphorical way; you felt light and heavenly, like you were floating above the ground, dancing on clouds.

Most of Queen’s songs, to your delight, made you want to dance— the best music made one want to dance. The songs that didn’t make you want to dance made you feel other emotions entirely— they moved you to tears.

By the time ���In the Lap of the Gods… Revisited’ had signalled the end of Sheer Heart Attack, you had curled up on your side, gazing unblinkingly at the slowing vinyl. It wouldn’t have been too far off to say that listening to Queen's music felt like a transcendental experience.

When the needle passed the final break in the record’s surface and met the space between the break and the record’s central label, you leapt up. Immediately, you swapped the last record for the first, so as to begin the cycle of listening again. You wanted to, needed to, hear it all again.

How lucky you felt, to be going to the concert of such artists the very same night, and how serendipitous it felt to not only know, but to be friends with these artists.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You had dabbed your eyelids with silver and outlined them in black, the way Freddie had taught you to, though you had never worn your makeup so until now. Your dress was a cotton-tulle mix, black and bell-sleeved, and spotted with flecks of silver like little stars; the effect was somewhere between casual and glam. A good balance, if you should be so bold as to say. Platform sandals completed the regalia, which you felt was a fitting way to describe the outfit which one wore to the concert of a band named Queen.

Between your third and fourth cycles of the three Queen albums, Heather had rung the telephone in the hallway across from your room.

“Hello, gorgeous!”

“Hiya, Heather,” you greeted her cheerily.

“I’ve been out all day, so I’m sorry if you’ve tried to get hold of me.”

“I’ve been out for a good many hours as well. Hope you didn’t miss me too terribly,” you sniggered.

“Pish posh. Not in the slightest. Been making out with Rog—”

“Stop right there, Heather.”

She made kissing sounds on the other end of the line.

“Remind me why you’re calling again?” you said, half-jokingly, half-seriously. Half-seriously because it was getting dreadfully close to eight o’clock, to Queen playing at the Union Bar. “And where are you, anyway?

“Calling to tell you Roger and his band are playing at the Union tonight, and to ask if you’re coming. I’m currently at said drummer’s place getting ready to tag along for said concert.”

“‘Course I’m coming,” you said. “Finest new musicians I’ve heard in years.”

Heather snorted. “You sound like my grandfather— top of the morning to you— finest musicians!” she laughed.

“Just because you haven’t actually heard their music yet,” you reprimanded her.

“About to. So this Freddie told you about the concert, like Roger said he would.”

“Yeah, our friend Freddie.”

“Oh. Oh god, Y/N, I’m fucking stupid. It’s the same guys as you usually talk about. I forget that. It’s like my mind thinks they’re part of some alternate reality, or something.”

“Please tell me you’re not on LSD.”

“No! I promised you I wouldn’t do anything silly for a month. You said LSD counted as silly, so despite being surrounded by all sorts of rockstars, I’m currently stone cold sober in every sense of the word.”

“Unfortunately, it appears you’re still under the effects of Roger Meddows Taylor,” you laughed.

“Shush, Y/N. He’ll think I’m some wacko already in love with him on day one.”

“You are a little bit, though, aren’t you?”

You could almost see her roll her eyes, see yourself respond with a knowing smile toward the insight that she was forever downplaying her emotions to seem less of a romantic than she was. But she was a romantic. Very much so. And she got her heart broken far too often for someone who loved as much and as wholly, as unconditionally, as she did.

“See you in a bit, mwah,” Heather kissed the phone and you cursed her loudness. She laughed at your string of obscenities and put down the phone.

With a final look in the mirror, hoping that your fashion choices had not been too bold, you swept out the door and into the night.

‧⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧

A/N: hello beautiful! thanks for reading this. just send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

taglist: @melting-obelisks  @stardust-killer-queen  @hgmercury39​ @topsecretdeacon

Masterpost / Part 1 / Part 3

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

thoughts on starry after multiple listens

(dated July 8, 2020 because i might make another one)

Edit: I SHOULD FACT CHECK MORE

the Starry soundtrack is as impressionist as the painters it invokes by energy alone, which is impressive given the style of music used (of which i’m fine with, but not partial to)

the Prologue does this right off the bat

the people of Monmartre are very critical of the rest of France and I adore it

i can feel theo’s overwhelment in Impress Me

Impress Me does a wonderful job at introducing the setting of the show

that song is a ball of pulsating yearning—no wait that’s the whole show

Theo got so stressed he walked blindly into Madame Segatori’s cafe

learning that the Le Tambourin was named as such due to its tambourine aesthetic via Vincent’s portrait of Segatori is just incredible to me; the table is shaped like a tambourine

“If Paris is the world, Monmartre is Bethlehem; and art is our Amen” sounds so powerful

A New Horizon is so warm

i expect Theo and Vincent to be very cuddly with each other everytime they interact

“dream with me, dear brother” is the energy of this song

french wheat fields will forever haunt me because of this damn musical

*insert Do You Like the Color of the Sky? post here*

like, so much emphasis to the sky

Vincent’s dreaming leaking into Theo’s trading practice surely must be a sight to see

chain imagery hits hard after hearing Wheat Fields/Finale Ultimo

in this yellow house, we dream of freedom

“should I really take this giant risk?” “brother, I took a giant risk coming here—fuck yeah do it!”

United in Distaste reeks of Vincent’s intimidation—it has new kid in school energy and I am living for it

Vincent coming to Monmartre (and when he arrives in Arles) like “Hey, I’m new in town, and it gets worse,”

Bernard has apparently spent enough time with Theo to be able to identify Vincent by frowning alone

Rude of Gauguin to yoink Vincent’s painting like that; Segatori immediately hangs it tho—

Gauguin sounds like he’s going to corrupt anyone who approaches him—dude announces his horny nature during his introduction

Gauguin IS a savage and a whore and the best thing about that is that he knows it; even better knowing the vision of his costume

Segatori’s displeasure throughout the song implies that the artists that frequent her cafe also argue amongst themselves frequently

“keep in mind that we’re academic rejects, Vincent”

with the way Degas, Pissarro, and Morisot tease at Gauguin (noting that Gauguin, Bernard, and Toulouse-Lautrec are together in a later song), it sounds like they’re are hurling insults from a separate tambourine table

Toulouse-Lautrec sounds dramatic; Bernard sounds like he’s not sure where he is artistically—both are a mood

Of the post-impressionist table, the only one retaliating with genuine insults is Toulouse-Lautrec; Bernard and Gauguin only end up defending themselves while Toulouse was ready to tear down Degas and Morisot

Pissarro IS old (at this period in time in the musical) damn

Morisot is unyielding with her insults, “speaking of size—“ holy shit oh no

i reiterate—why is Toulouse-Lautrec the only one actually speaking in a French accent; almost everyone there is French

since I’m aggressively referring to him, I think Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec merits a musical of his own, and that’s based on what first learned about him when I first listened to Starry

by extension, also Berthe Morisot

Monmartre’s artists be like “We’re very critical of ourselves and each other, and while that’s worth being intimidated by, don’t be intimidated by us! What do you have to bring to the table, foreign painter?”

Something poetic about how what Vincent wants being what all the artists want hereby making him a member of their squad is so warm to me—galleries are gravity INDEED

“We will embrace the madness we design, or lose our mind,” IS THIS FORSHADOWING BECAUSE IT FUCKING SOUNDS LIKE IT

“i am loving this! YES, GET ANGRY!” if only i can identify who said this

Something After All is directed towards Vincent, right? It better be, I lack context

Theo’s yearning is so relatable and I fear not being able to fulfill it

bless Kelly and Matt for giving Jo so much depth in Enlightenment

apparently she deadass learned English for the purpose of translating the letters she had compiled??? yo i love that

poetic how Jo invokes making a legacy since she’s the one who actually preserves her brother-in-law’s legacy (and by extension, herself and her husband’s legacies)

at first listen, i immediately drew a comparison to Hamilton’s Eliza; Jo is better both musically and literally, given that Vincent van Gogh is far more relevant than Alexander Hamilton will ever be, even with LMM’s musical

not trying to start beef, just an observation

Jo’s yearning is also such a mood

fire, light, and road imagery being invoked huh

it is by this point i’ve to the realization that the reasons one goes to Monmartre that was cited in Impress Me tie in very well to the individual characters’ desires in this show

Where Are We Going? goes so hard ugh yes

“I need a stronger strategy to seize my immortality!” Gauguin’s incredible ambition is the root of his dissatisfaction; doesn’t help that he’s impulsive both in the musical and IRL

Toulouse prioritizes integrity and Bernard prioritizes progression—I wonder what this means for their characters in the show

Toulouse and Bernard calling Gauguin out on his known shitty behaviors feels like they’ll be problems Vincent will have to deal with in Act 2, when they live together

this is where Gauguin leaves for Martinique, right???

which one is the act 1 closer, really??? The Sower or The Road??? help me please

everyone in town is really concerned for Vincent

it wams me how much Segatori believes in him

Bernard’s right, Vincent van Gogh’s artstyle IS a melting pot

learning that Toulouse-Lautrec capitalized on his art during the peak of his career really adds weight to his concerns on Vincent’s inability to sell

i like to imagine the everyone’s in the gallery during The Sower

Theo and Jo’s relationship progressing as Vincent’s works don’t sell hits upon realization

Theo falling hard when he learns that he and Jo yearn for the same thing tho

recontextualizing the imagery that Vincent found beauty in into imagery that demonstrates his person is just mighty good of Kelly and Matt

then again, so much of his person is in the artwork to begin with

“and everyone knows your reap what you sow.” w o a h!!!

The Road starts like a dramatization of one of Vincent’s breakdowns and how he copes with them, or perhaps this starts after one??? The opening verses suggest a lot

also ties his road to his dream of freedom with what i believe is his travel to Arles

“North, South, East, West—navigate from inside you,” = “With conscience as my compass,”

“i am guided towards the night” this Vincent knows the answer but is so clearly far from its reach and is desperately trying to figure out how to

soul of fire, crystal heart and blizzard-like brain; the man is passionate and everyone knows it

“Fascinating, but maybe just a little too soon,” sounds like that at this point, Toulouse-Lautrec and Bernard genuinely recognize and admire Vincent’s talents, but also understand that the world is still against him and that they have the experience to prove it

the “sunlight and storms” imagery always concern Theo, Jo, and Vincent’s relationship with each other

Gauguin popping up in this song with the compass imagery implies the show’s going to make him a pretty interesting foil to Vincent; this sounds like him traveling back to Paris, or at least him attempting to vibe in Martinique

this hurts when you remember what happens to Vincent

“curse of the gifted” is a phrase i am too afraid to understand

DYLAN SAUNDERS CAN SLAY ME WITH HIS VOICE

The Yellow House sounds yellow somehow

who clears their throat before writing a letter???

Gauguin’s frustration’s against Vincent’s admiration of him is amusing

sounds like Gauguin hasn’t found his “freedom” yet

Theo is one generous fellow

this arrangement lasts for only 2 months; given the apparent span of this musical, The Yellow House is a very “calm before the storm” song

wait a minute—

apparently, Vincent REALLY admired Gauguin and was so excited for his arrival at the yellow house

i fear the dramatization of their disagreements

“Don’t tell Theo I said that,” it amuses me how the van Gogh brothers’ relationship is so well-known to these painters

based on the gifs lurking, the ear incident WILL be dramatized and I am terrified for my heart on how it will be depicted

Sunlight and Storms quotes the original letter from Jo to Vincent surprisingly well (i attempted to read some—there’s so many! this was one of the first ones i came across)

this song hurts when it hits how little time Jo and Theo had together as a married couple

I am convinced a lot happened between Sunlight and Storms and On the Threshold of Eternity

this definitely was after a breakdown

i skip this song just so i don’t think about the obvious implications, i must confess

the meaning of “sunlight and storms” hits the hardest here

“we will not let your illness keep you from finding your freedom”

The Red Vinyard is so full of a brother’s love

this hits me, and i speak as an only child

“You’ve carried me more than you’ll ever know,” AH—

when Theo finally sees the new horizon, Vincent is seeing it too

and what Vincent saw he put on a fucking canvas

“i can see it—a new horizon” = “the sight of the starry night”

they say that at the time, not much was thought of the iconic painting

i could only wonder what might’ve happened between The Starry Night and Wheat Fields

all the piano motifs coming together in Wheat Fields/Finale Ultimo, just like that

“I’m ready for harvest time” is melodically similar to “The road is bright”, particularly when it’s just Vincent singing the line alone

despite the obvious, I don’t think I’ll grasp the meaning of the final song; i also skip this one so i don’t think about it

[arasokanbina]

Tldr: A simply great emotional track and MV about the distance and longing in a break up.

I love how they've edited the video to being cropped. It adds to the feeling of the confined space of the air/space craft and the small view from the windows, at times looking like a telescope.

This adds to the space aesthetic as you use telescopes to look at the stars and also looking intently at something. Which also adds to looking at something that shines bright maybe it's a meteorite, a falling star or a spacecraft breaking apart in transit.

Space is of being emphasised here as its repressing the distance/space between the ex and you/Key who is still in love and suffering heartbreak. We see Key try to move on as he straps in, but it's no use. He has prepared himself for this, but nothing quite can protect you from this hurt. Doing this is showing how he is trying to move on and make distance between his heart (the planet/Taeyeon) but it seems the craft is old and rickety already because it was an emergency escape. It seems the break up happened recently. Like with most break ups it's usually sudden and devastating. Your mind mind knows it needs to move on because that's what your supposed to do, but as I said you can prepare to protect yourself but it always hurts.

In this instantce the craft is the brains mental state. Trying to hold itself together it starts off somewhat intact but it gets overwhelmed with inputs and gets flooded with information and overloads. Key barely manages to keep his head above the water in hurt, anger but mostly sorrow.

Now to Taeyeon being the heart. We see her in red with baby pink hair, symbolising passion and sweetness. But she's alone on a barren planet surrounded by water. The brain (Key) and heart (Taeyeon) eventually meet on the planet, maybe Key is addressing his heart break.

It goes to reality. Key and Taeyeon are once again separated. Key in the cafe and Taeyeon outside of the cafe. The rain adds to his drowning depressed feeling. Alone in a cafe you can see him internally distracted as he addresses (or tries to) all these thoughts and feelings. Whilst Taeyeon protects herself in the rain, perhaps showing her processing the detachment from the break up and is protecting herself from getting drenched (depression) as she moves showing the start of moving on. It also highlights again the distance between the former lovers.

Another thought is that this song in the way it's addressed is like a love song to yourself, because at the end if you take it this way they are starting the journey of moving on which shows love and care for yourself. It's also just a great emotional heart break song haha.

And of course Taeyeon could just represent the lover of the past relationship still showing the distance between them and how she isn't in peril like we see Key go through. She is 'doing better' without him. Or they could of course represent both because it's art and art can do that! Haha!

The echoey simple beat adds to aiding the feelings of how empty but full thoughts and emotions are swirling around your mind during these times especially at [2:20].

Anyway yeah I love it, even though I don't wanna be emotional like this atm even though I always usually am! Oops haha and I of course love being emotional haha! So yes it's perfect.

Ugh I wanna be in love, but also... no haha! Oh one more thing, Taeyeon's baby pink hime cut!!!!! Love it! Also can we have Key act in a drama or something. Like a rich fashionsta, I'm totally not saying he should play himself in a drama but yeah I am haha! Also I'm down for anything empty and space themed so they got me fast! Zooom! Oh one last thing, I love how they sing the chorus! It flows so well, and is fun in how they go slowly but quickly in the melody and lines.

"And I hate that I hate that. You’re happy without me. And I pray and I pray. I want you to be painful as much as I do baby. "

I might add more thoughts later if they come to me! I'll post them under here.

Also like with libidO I had the song on repeat whilst writing this out because I GOTTA FEEL! Like method actors get into their roles or something less dramatic haha. But I mean they are great songs, reaping aides in keeping me on track with my initial thoughts. And once again it's not hard when they're great songs which I would repeat anyway haha!